#cult is such a harsh scary word | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

julesclues · 3 years ago

Text

Leave a Mark pt. 2

Warnings: mentions of abuse, cursing, cleanup of injuries, sexual references

Word count: 5.42k

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader

Not proof read :p

Summary: After a harsh encounter with your father, Eddie continues to clean you up in his trailer now that the coast is clear.

You and Dustin decided that sleeping over Eddie’s was a good idea. Dustin was supposed to do it anyways, and you didn’t feel in the condition to drive home, especially with him in the car. Your head was still killing you, and it hurt to walk for the most part.

After the boys had settled down from their little play session of running around the trailer, Eddie went in his room and grabbed some blankets and pillows for Dustin. “Woah, wait a minute. I’m not sleeping in a bed?” Dustin asks, as he follows Eddie out of his bedroom and onto the couch, where you sat. “Nope! I like you Henderson, but I will not be giving up my precious bed. Capisci?”

“But-“ Dustin turns to you to protest but you’re already giving him a death glare. “Eddie was nice enough to let us stay here. You’re lucky you’re not sleeping on the floor,” you say while Dustin’s shoulders fall in defeat. He turns to Eddie and Eddie wiggles the pillows and blankets. “Yeah, keep complaining Henderson and you’ll be outside.”

You chuckle slightly as Dustin accepts sleeping on the couch, and you get up so Eddie can set it up for him. “Where should I go?” You ask softly, rubbing your hands together. “You, lovely lady, can go in my room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Why does she get your room!?” Dustin protests, but Eddie hits his arm. “She’s hurt. And besides, she hasn’t been complaining this entire time. I think she’s starting to become my favorite Henderson.” You blush at his playful words, but Dustin is just kinda disgusted. “Don’t you dare start flirting with my sister! I liked it better when you two weren’t friends. Fuck.” You laugh a bit and glance at Eddie, but he’s already looking at you with a sparkle in his eye, causing your breath to hitch in your throat for a quick second. His eyes were beautiful.

“I-I’ll be.. I’ll just go now. Yeah..” you say a bit awkwardly. You clear your throat and walk toward Eddie’s room, hearing his chuckle fade. You walk into his room and it matches him exactly. It’s exactly what you thought it would look like. Posters of Metallica, Dio, and Black Sabbath hung on the wall, worn down but still standing. Magazines of metal bands flooded the floors and his desk, along with guitar picks and music sheets. On the nightstand besides his bed was a little notebook titles “dnd campaigns” which made you smile. It was cute how Eddie hated English class and yet kept a notebook of creative ideas for a game he was so passionate about.

You picked up the book and sat on his bed. You scrolled through the notebook, glancing at the thousands of words plastered on the pages. There were also some doodles on the corners of a couple pages, which made you smile. But there was one that made you stop scrolling and your smile widen.

It was Dustin. A cute little sketch of Dustin wearing his hat that said “thinking cap.” The sketch wasn’t as good to put in a museum, but the fact that you were just able to see that it was your brother made you smile widely. You knew Dustin loved Eddie like a lot, but you didn’t really put together that Eddie shared that same love. Now you definitely understand how wrong you were about him. You had always thought he liked to be feared, that he was a scary cult leader but really, it was the total opposite.

“Snooping, sweetheart?”

You jump from being startled, dropping the notebook on the floor and turn to face Eddie leaning against the door frame. “I-I’m sorry,” you apologize. “I know I shouldn't have been looking through your stuff, but your room is awesome. It’s exactly how I thought it would be.” He smirks, a small blush forming on his cheeks at the mention of how awesome you think he room is. “So, you've imagined what my room would look like?” Your eyes widen as you chuckle at his playful banter, picking up the notebook. “In your dreams, Munson.” He puts his hand on his chest like he’s wounded, and sits down on his bed. “Who told you about my dreams?” You sit down next to him and throw your head in a circle, ignoring his rhetorical question. “How’re you feeling?” he asks with concern. You turn to look at him but he's already looking at you with those goddamn puppy eyes. “Honestly, my torso hurts a bit.” He jumps up which, yet again, startles you. You were confused as to what he was doing when he went to his drawer and started looking through it, mumbling things you couldn’t quite understand. You see his tongue stick out a bit, which you find absolutely adorable. “Ah! Here it is,” he says quite loudly, turning around to face you.

In his hands were a couple of elastic bandages. “We can wrap these around you to help with the bruises on your torso and legs. Besides, it’ll make you look badass.” You chuckle softly as he sits besides you again, making the bed dip down. You admired how easily he can make you smile or laugh, even in the shittiest of moments. You never knew he had such a sense of humor. Maybe that’s why Dustin got along with him so well, so quick. You stare at Eddie as he unravels the bandage, ready to put it around your torso first. “You can totally do this yourself if you’re uncomfortable, but I need you to lift your shirt a bit so I can wrap this around you sweetheart.” You were a bit hesitant.

Not because it was Eddie, but because you didn’t want to reveal such a bruise. You felt it even if there was no pressure on it. It was throbbing and the pain was definitely there. For some reason, you were embarrassed.

Eddie noticed your hesitation and was quick to reassure you. “I know I’m supposed to buy you dinner first, but I promise I’m still a gentleman. Say the word, I’ll leave the room, and you can patch yourself up.”

“I know you’re a gentleman,” you say a bit too quick. “I just get a bit nervous to show people my injuries. Don’t know why,” you chuckle nervously as he gives you a small smile. “You don’t want me to see you differently,” he says. You tilt your head in confusion, wondering how he was able to connect with you so easily and understand what you were feeling. “My childhood wasn’t the best,” he admits. “Before moving in with Uncle Wayne at around 7, I lived with my dad. My mom split when I was young. Never really knew her,” he chuckles sadly, but you just continue to listen, leaning in a bit so he knows you’re really listening.

“My dad was a selfish prick, exactly like yours. Textbook definition and all. I always defended him though. Always told people he was amazing and the best father ever, even though he would do that same thing to me,” Eddie admits, pointing to your face quickly as he mentions the last couple words. Your eyes widen in surprise a bit, not expecting Eddie to share the same experiences as you and your brother. “It wasn’t until Uncle Wayne took me in that I started to notice the real reason I never told people the truth. I was embarrassed. Everyone spoke about their parents being the highlight of their life yet my highlight was a fantasy board game about warlocks and dragons and creativity. No wonder people call me a freak, huh?” Before you could respond, he shakes his head.

“But this isn’t about me. This is about you, sweetheart. I never told anyone that, but I needed you to know that I understand you. Maybe not personally, but I’m not exactly in the dark here, you know? So I get it. I’m here for you.”

I’m here for you.

Those four words were words you were longing for, and you didn’t even know it. Eddie saw tears form in your eyes as you just inhaled slowly in silence. “I’m sorry you went through that,” was all you said before a couple tears starting falling. “Hey, don’t cry. Come on, we should be patching you up like a potato head.” You chuckle in confusion, wiping a tear as he scoots closer to you. He was so weird.

“Like a potato head?” You question.

“Yeah,” he says nonchalantly. “Like, those weird doll things. That you put together and stuff? You can take off their eyes and mouth and then put them back on.”

“How does that relate to me?”

“Cause like.. you know. Putting you back together.”

“But I’m not broken.”

“Well no, but I mean, you’re not a potato either so don’t take it too literal, sweetheart.”

You hummed, smiling at him in silence. “You can patch me up,” you say after a moment. “I trust you. And besides, with these bruises, I don’t think I have the strength to turn too much.” He nods slightly and picks up the bandage again. “If you would be so kind, m’lady,” he says, mimicking the action of lifting up your shirt. You do exactly that, lifting up until it reaches right below your chest area. You saw Eddie’s face drop a little bit when he noticed your bruises, and it made your heart hurt.

It was a deep purple and it looked like it wasn’t done forming yet. The color circled from your belly button to your back, and went up about two or three inches. It was one hell of a bruise. Eddie had never seen anything like it. He was shocked this wasn’t from a car accident or something along those lines.

“Y/n,” he whispers, looking up at you. But he saw you were looking down with a slight redness to your face from embarrassment. So, Eddie being Eddie, he tried to make you feel better with the one thing he did best - humor!

“Ever go mechanical bull riding?” He asks, starting to wrap you up with the bandage. Very lightly, but it still hurt when you get his fingers graze your stomach. “What’s that?” You ask in curiosity. He looks up at you and scoffs. “What- wait, you don’t know what that is?!” He asks in disbelief. You smile and shake your head, as he mentally praises himself for helping you loosen up a bit. “You get on this mechanical bull, hence the name, and the operator tries to throw you off. It starts off slowly, but the longer you stay on, the quicker and harder it gets. Eventually you get thrown off. You only hold on with one hand though.”

You laugh, imagining yourself on it. “I’d get thrown off almost immediately. It sounds like a lot of fun though. I’d pay good money to see you ride it, Munson.” Eddie laughs, halting his hands and looking up at you. You were smiling wide now, almost as if nothing had happened within the last 24 hours. God, did he love your smile.

“Well guess what, sweetheart? I’ve gone on one before.” You gasp in surprise, your eyes widening as you lean closer to him. “No way!” You squeal. “Yep, no bullshit. Went with my band once and-“

“Corroded Coffin, right?”

He almost died right then and there.

“Y-yeah. That’s us,” he smiles. “Anyways, they dared me to do it,” he starts off, continuing to wrap you up. He was almost done. ”Once I got up there, it was actually decent. Stayed on for quite some time. Until that shit starting spinning. Let me just tell you, it was not a pleasant experience. Almost shit my pants and puked at the same time.” You laughed for probably the hundredth time tonight, and yet Eddie could listen to it until he died. He loved to make you laugh. It was his new favorite hobby.

He laughed along with you, finishing the wrapping of the bandage, admiring his work. You lower your shirt with a strain and a wince after a couple of minutes, causing him to look up at you. “You alright?” He asks in a sincere voice. You sigh, but nod. “As good as I can be. I just hope that little one out there is okay.” You say with as much concern as Eddie, turning your head to the door. “Oh he’s got a 5 star couch for the night. He’s more than okay, sweetheart.” He knew you meant about the whole situation. About your father and the fear and the hurt. But Eddie promised both you and himself that he’d protect the Henderson siblings. That meant both physically and emotionally. And he’s not one to ever break a promise.

You smile and put your hand on top of his, making him tense for a second. It was unexpected. “I can’t thank you enough.” He flips his hand and interlocks it with yours. “Don’t need to thank me sweetheart. It’s the bare minimum.”

You hum, knowing he’s right but still finding it a bit unbelievable that someone can be as funny and sweet as him. You hated how people called him a freak. You felt guilty for ever thinking of him other than a good guy. Dustin was right about him. He was so right.

“Anyways!” He says with enthusiasm, jumping up from the bed and slapping his thighs. “Let’s get you ready for bed, huh? It’s already..” he glances at his watch and is somewhat shocked. “12:17. Damn.” He opens his drawer, searching for some clothes he could give you. “Aha!” He says, similar to when he found your bandage. He pulls out a hellfire shirt, most likely an extra one since he was wearing his, and some black pajama shorts that were way too similar to boxers.

“I hope this is okay,” he asks. You smile as he places the clothes next to you on the bed. “It’s more than enough,” you reassure him. “Thank you Eddie.”

“Like I said sweetheart, no need to thank me.” He pulls out clothes for himself as well. An oversized Metallica shirt and red and black flannel pants. “How’s my outfit for the night?” He asks, putting the clothes up to his body and posing. You chuckle and shake your head slightly. “Makes you look like Metallica’s number one fan,” you joke. “Matter of fact, are you part of their band? With all the merch you have..” your voice trails off as Eddie smirks in satisfaction that you’re opening up to him.

“Ah, she’s got jokes, huh?”

“Guess you’re rubbing off on me, Eds.”

Eddie pauses, his breathing becoming a bit quicker than before. “E-Eds?” He repeats in a whisper. Your eyes widen in nervousness. “I’m sorry! I just thought that- I mean you call me sweetheart, so I thought a nickname for you would make sense. I’m sorry, I’ll stick with Eddie, I wasn’t thinking-“

“No!” He interrupts, making you stop talking. “I liked it. Trust me, I liked it. It was just unexpected, that’s all. Please, keep calling me that.” He knew he sounded kind of desperate, and he had to admit it was a bit embarrassing. But not to you. Your still expression turned into a happy one, as you bit on your bottom lip for a second. “Eds it is then,” you grin.

“I guess I am rubbing off on you, sweetheart. Nicknames, jokes. Third base for me is using humor to cope. Seems like you share that same trait, huh?” You chuckle, grabbing the clothes he left for you on the bed. “Don’t think so, Eds. Third base is me telling you about my father.” He smiles as you were able to make a small joke about the harsh events that had happened.

“Marriage seems like the next plausible option then,” he continues.

“Let’s elope.”

“Dibs on Dustin being my best man.”

“No fair, I wanted him as the flower girl!”

This time, it’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. Never in a million years had he thought he would be joking about third base and marriage with Y/n Henderson. Life surely is unpredictable.

“You go change now,” he says, his laugh fading a bit, but his smile ever faltering. “Let me check on Dustin.”

“Ever the babysitter,” you huff with a playful tone.

“Hey, that’s Harrington’s job.” You smile and glance at him once more, before disappearing into the bathroom with a click erupting from the bathroom lock.

Eddie is frozen in his room, replaying the encounter in his mind over and over again. You were definitely something else and he absolutely loved it.

You on the other hand were a blushing mess. “Okay,” you whisper to yourself, looking at your reflection in the mirror. The bathroom was quite small, considering it was a trailer home but you didn’t mind one bit. It was still spacey enough to change in.

After a couple minutes, you changed into the hellfire shirt and the shorts. The hellfire shirt was somewhat long on you, and when you would move a certain way, it made it seem like you didn’t have pants on. It made you chuckle a bit.

When you walked out of the bathroom and back into Eddie’s room, he was no where to be found. He was probably still checking in on Dustin and changing into clothes as well. You sat on the bed once more and lifted up the shirt to view the bandage. You ran your fingers along the material, feeling it’s rough surface. You winced a bit, but the bandage helped soothe the pain a lot.

You got back up after lowering the shirt and decided to explore Eddie’s room some more. Even though you did briefly before, it was cut short after he had caught you. You go over to his guitar hanging on the wall and play a couple of strings. It makes a small sound which causes your mind to drift to how and what Eddie would play. Definitely Metallica that’s for sure. You thought about if he would play Iron Maiden or even Möntley Crüe. After a couple minutes of thinking, you came to the conclusion that he for sure knew how to play songs from those two bands.

You shifted your attention the his nightstand beside his bed where you had previously found his dnd notebook. There were some cassette tapes and you knew you just had to go through them. What kind of music did Eddie Munson really listen to?

Majority of it was metal bands, of course, but there was one cassette that made you chuckle to yourself and smile widely.

Abba.

Eddie Munson listened to Abba. Maybe not religiously, like he did those other bands, but holy shit.

And as if on cue, Eddie walks through the door of his bedroom. The sight of you in a Hellfire shirt holding a Metallica and Abba cassette in each hand made his heart absolutely swoon. “I see someone’s snooping again,” he says with a bit of a shaky voice. Sure, his demeanor was confident, but seeing you in this way made his nervous. In a good way, of course.

“And yet again, I’m sorry,” you apologize. “But Abba?” You question. “No way the Edward Munson listens to Abba in his free time.” He scoffs at the name ‘Edward’ walking up to you and snatching the cassettes out of your hands, throwing them into his pajama drawer. “Calling me Edward makes me seem like an 80-year old grandpa.”

“You sure look like one.”

“Henderson with the jokes! Where is this coming from?”

“Like I said before Eddie, you’re rubbing off on me.”

“I think you’re right. I even have you in a Hellfire shirt.” Eddie couldn’t help but imagine that the shirt was his shirt. It was an exact match, they only had one design. It made him blush ever so slightly, but it went unnoticed by you.

“This is pretty comfy,” you say with happiness, gripping the ends of the shirt and hopping on his bed. You yawn softly and he notices, turning on the lamp next to him bed. “Why don’t you sleep, sweetheart? It’s been a long day, you need to rest.”

You nod slightly, getting under his comforter and laying down. He shuts off the overhead light and walks over to you, smiling while looking down at you. You meet his gaze and smile. “I know you told me not to thank you Eddie, but that’s all I can say right now. Thank you for helping me and Dustin.” He smiles at your kind words and nods, not trusting his voice to respond. He turns around to leave, but he feels you grab his wrist. He doesn’t move his body but turns his head so he’s looking at you once more.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a slight worry hidden in your voice. “I’ll just be in Uncle Wayne’s room. It’s right across the hall.” He tries to reassure you but your grip on his wrist doesn’t falter. “Please don’t go,” you whisper, making his heart beat faster than he thinks it ever has. “I.. I don’t want to be alone. I’ll know you’ll be in the other room but-“

Eddie doesn’t allow you to finish. With his other hand, he grabs yours that’s on his wrist and smiles widely at you. “Y-Yeah,” he stutters a bit. “Of course I’ll stay.”

He walks over to the other side of the bed and grabs a pillow, ready to set up on the floor. You sit up in his bed and look over at him. “What are you doing?” You ask, hands folded in your lap. “Setting up on the floor,” he says nonchalantly. “Oh..” you say in disappointment, and this doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” You bit your lower lip in hesitancy. “Nothing, I just.. is it weird to ask if you c-can stay up here.. with me? I mean, the bed is big enough for both of us- obviously you know that, it’s your bed,” Eddie chuckles as you ramble on. “You don’t have to sleep with me- n-not like that, obviously! I mean if you don’t want to l-like.. fuck, I’m totally botching this, huh? I’m gonna go crawl in a hole.”

Eddie laughs, putting the pillow back on the opposite side of the bed and tilting his head toward you, silent for a moment. “Yeah that totally sucked,” he admitted, making you throw a pillow at him. It hits his face but he catches it before it hits the floor, making you laugh for a second. “Shut up,” you scoff. He sits on the bed with a hop, handing you back the pillow. You put it back under your head and lie back down. He looks at you as you snuggle yourself in his comforter, wondering what it would be like to see you like this every night. Magical is the only word he could come up with.

Soon he mimics your actions and turns toward you as you stare up to the ceiling. You were silent, the injuries on your face still very much evident. Eddie took his time to really take in your appearance, past the bruises.

Your side profile was beautiful. He had never seen anything like it and mentally degraded himself for ever ignoring you. You looked peaceful just laying on his bed and wearing his clothes. He allowed his mind to drift to what it would be like to go star gazing with you, or even take you out to Lovers Lake and have a picnic. He normally hates doing those sorts of things. It just wasn’t his style. But the more he got to know you, the more he realized that he’d do anything you’d ask him do. Dare he say, even listen to Tears for Fears and The Cure.

Your voice brought him out of his little daydream, as he realized you were now facing toward him and your lips were moving. “You’re not uncomfortable, are you?” You ask with concern. “Not one bit,” he admits a little too quickly. You smile, relaxing a bit and turning back to face the ceiling. “I hate that this is my life,” you whisper, causing Eddie’s smile to drop. He doesn’t say anything though. He just allows you to continue. “I just want a family. I want Dustin and I to be able to sit at a dinner table with others besides just us two. I want to talk about nonsense and have someone listen to me anyways because they care about me. I just want someone besides Dustin to care about me.”

“I care about you.”

“You basically just met me. You didn’t know me before.”

“And look at the impact you made. I could listen to you talk for hours.”

You turn your head to Eddie once again, feeling your heart race. “Really?” You whisper in disbelief. “Are you kidding?” He whispers back. “I was a fool to not have known you sooner. We could’ve been eating those microwaved dinners together and talked about nonsense for years!” You smile at the mention of microwaved dinners. Sure they tasted like shit most of the time, but they provided you comfort. Dustin too. He must’ve told Eddie about them.

“Maybe we can do that then,” you say with some confidence. “Like every Saturday or Sunday or something. The Henderson’s and the Munson’s. If that’s okay with Wayne, of course!” You had never met Wayne, but just by the way Eddie’s eyes lit up at his name, you knew he was a good parental figure toward him. “That sounds perfect, sweetheart. I’m sure Dustin would love it. Maybe we can teach you and Wayne to play dnd.” You chuckle at the thought of you playing the one game you swore you never would. Yet when Eddie mentioned the idea, you couldn’t help but feel hopeful that it would become a reality. “I actually really like that idea, Eds,” you admit. He hums and you could hear the happiness he radiates.

“I’m tired,” you whisper. “Sleep then, sweetheart. We’ve always got tomorrow to talk and goof around.”

“Eds?”

“Yes?”

“Are we friends?”

“I think sleeping in the same bed unlocks that level of our bond, don’t you think?”

“I do. I just wanted to make sure you thought the same way.”

“Don’t worry. We’re on the same page.”

You felt your eyes getting heavier as each word spilled past your lips. Sooner or later, you had fallen asleep, not even realizing the lingering touch of Eddie’s hand on yours.

Hours later, you presume, you woke up to a bright light shining through Eddie’s beat up window. You felt very warm, and looked down to realize that you were tangled up with Eddie, kind of like a knot. You felt your face heat up almost immediately when you say how your head rested on his chest and your legs were engulfed in his. His arms were wrapped around your figure, somewhat keeping you from moving or shifting without waking him up. You had to admit, it was the most comfortable you had been in a while.

You look up and see Eddie snoring slightly, his eyes closed and his mouth in a small smile. You wondered if he was dreaming and what it was about. While admiring him, his eyes fluttered open and instantly, he made eye contact with you. His raspy voice comes out in a whisper. “Hello sweetheart.” You smile at him and yawn, nodding to reciprocate the greeting. “How long have you been awake?” He asks, not breaking eye contact with you. “Just a couple of minutes,” you admit. Before he could respond, a harsh opening of the bedroom door startles you both, causing you to break eye contact and glance at the door. It was Dustin.

“Eddie! Where the hell is the milk? I’ve been looking for-“ his little rant was cut short when he takes in how you and Eddie are in each other’s arms, in the same bed, under the same sheets. “Please don’t tell me you two were fucking!” Dustin screams, turning around quickly. A deep blush creeps on your face almost instantly as Eddie starts to laugh. “Dustin!” You scold. “We weren’t- God, I need to teach you how to speak properly.”

“We’re out of milk,” Eddie says nonchalantly. You wondered how he could be so chill about what Dustin said, but when you looked up at him, you realized his cheeks were just as red as yours. It made you smile.

“How can you not have milk?” Dustin protests, turning back around to make eye contact with Eddie. “And more importantly, why the hell are you all over my sister?”

“He’s not all over me!” You yell, causing Dustin to roll his eyes. “I can see his hands wandering!”

“You must be hallucinating because his hands are-“

Before you could finish though, you were interrupted by Eddie’s fingertips circling your right thigh under the sheets. There was no way Dustin could see, but you would still deny it until your last breath. At first, you were confused why Eddie was doing what he was, until you looked up at him to see he was smirking but not looking toward you.

He was teasing you.

“J-Just go drink s-something else,” you stutter, trying hard to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach as he grips your thigh. “But I want milk!” Dustin says, stomping his foot. Eddie then speaks up. “Henderson, how about you drink some water? Stay hydrated, huh?” You were glad Eddie spoke up when he did. You didn’t trust your voice to not crack or stutter. Dustin huffs in annoyance, and leaves Eddie’s room with a quiet close of the door. One thing you had taught him was to never slam doors. Once Dustin was out of view, you slapped Eddie slightly on the chest.

“What the hell was that?!” You ask, getting up out of his embrace. You felt cold without him. “No way you’re mad at me,” Eddie fights back with a smile, getting up with a stretch. “I’m not mad, I’m just..” you didn’t really know how to feel. “Turned on?” Eddie jokes, which causes you to throw a pillow at him. “Am not!” You contradict, chuckling as he catches what you threw. “Sure Henderson, deny it all you want.” All you do is scoff playfully, looking at him with a smile. “Eds-“

“Go on a date with me.”

Your eyes widen in confusion and surprise at his sudden boldness. “W-What?” You stutter. He was on one side of the bed with you standing on the other side, so the distance wasn’t too far. “Stop me if I’m reading this wrong but I enjoy hanging out with you,” he admits. “And yeah, I love being your friend now but.. I want to care for you in a different way. I don’t want to apologize for my lingering touches or glance at you only when you’re not looking. I want to try with you. And hey, if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. But I want to try this, Y/n.”

Y/n. That’s how you knew he was serious. Not sweetheart this time, but your actual name.

You were silent for a second before walking over to his side of the bed and smiling up at him. “I never would’ve thought that Edward Munson would be asking Y/n Henderson out on a date.”

“Again with the Edward.” You chuckle and pull him into a hug, which he doesn’t mind reciprocating. “Of course I’ll go on a date with you,” you accept. Your soft voice tickles his neck but he doesn’t care, it felt good.

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“Are you kidding?” You say, pulling away from him. “I’d be a fool not to. You helped me and my brother so much, it only proved how good of a guy you are. I want this, Eds. I want to try with you.”

He smiles, looking down at you. You’ve never seen him smile like that, not even when he’s playing dnd.

“Eddie! Get your ass out of that room! I want fucking milk!” You both hear Dustin scream with a voice crack. You laugh along side Eddie, not breaking eye contact. “Your brother is a handful.”

“What gave you that idea?”

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safetycar-restart · 2 years ago

Note

I’ve been thinking thoughts.

1) Sub!Charles sometimes has trouble falling asleep. Whether it’s jet lag, race jitters, Ferrari stress, sometimes poor baby can’t get his mind to shut off. But there’s always one perfect remedy. Eat mommy’s pussy. He loves it so much because your thighs are warm, he can relax and keep his eye closed and just keep up with some sweet kitten licks. Maybe he gets so relaxed that he falls asleep on your pussy because he’s finally able to get rid of all his thoughts. Perfect sweet sleepy sub.

2)Scissoring boypussy!charles. Maybe this comes after the experience of the double ended dildo. He heard about it once and he’s been so nervous to try it because what if it’s too weird or what if you’re turned off by the idea. But he wants to experience what it’s like to have you so close to him like that. Maybe it’s not just a sex act for him but the highest form of intimacy.

3)Double ended dildo, but this time with Pierre and Bunny. I can totally see Bunny being mesmerized by Pierre fucking himself and Bunny and both of them are wriggling along the length of the dildo trying to find a rhythm and position that work.

3)What if sub!charles sees how naughty/cheeky Lando can be with his dom and is inspired to be a little naughty too. Maybe he tries teasing mommy by wearing his pretty skirts and dresses without panties and finding the opportune time to bend over a ‘accidentally’ flash mommy. Or he tries to play with himself while waiting for mommy to walk through the door and find him. Key word is try because he’s nervous but also it just doesn’t feel as good as having mommy’s permission. But he’s just curious to see what happens. If mommy would actually punish him, what would she do? Because he trusts mommy 100% to not give him a harsh and scary punishment because he isn’t into the heavy stuff. So what would his punishment be?

These have been my thoughts. Thank you for your time 🫡

I... anon you just... you just dropped three masterpieces on me?? You didn't even leave an emoji oh my fucking god. Anon if you want to send other thoughts... you better claim a fucking emoji it is a requirement!! The leaders of the bunny cult will be hunting you until you claim one.

But okay okay let's do this. I'm gonna talk about each these concepts separately because they're all so good and I am obsessed with each of them.

CONCEPT ONE:

Firstly, I definitely agree that Charles struggles to sleep quite a bit due to jet lag. And I also think he struggles to function properly when he hasn't had enough sleep? He tends to become very whiney and sensitive when he's too tired, easily brought to tears and really just wanting cuddles from his mommy until he falls asleep.

So needless to say, it's very important to try and keep a good sleep schedule for Charles and to make sure he gets enough sleep. But sometimes his schedule is all out of whack from traveling and his mind wont quieten down and the poor thing just cant sleep.

And the absolute best way to help him fall asleep is absolutely to let him eat you out. To be honest he doesnt even do a very good job, it's mostly just light kitten licks and occasional suck on your clit but he's just so happy, all warm and safe between your thighs and so so comfy as he licks you.

He often falls asleep like that, and you just let him because the sweet thing needs his sleep. And then when he wakes up, he always looks surprised that he's between your thighs but then immediately starts licking you again because he's not gonna miss an opportunity to taste his mommy.

CONCEPT TWO:

Of course boypussy Charles wants to try scissoring! He just wants to be as close to you as possible and the idea of it just sounds so good? Even if it doesnt feel mind-blowing, it's still so good because he gets to be so close to you.

Obviously he's on the bottom, because he cannot be expected to do all the work he is far too cute for that. He must simply lay there and cling to you and cry out as he feels so good.

It's not something he asks for all the time, because nothing beats the feeling of you fucking him with a strap. But it is something he requests when he wants to feel safe and close to you?

OPTION THREE:

Bunny and Pierre using a double dildo? That’s definitely something planned by you and Pierre. You both know that bunny would lose his little mind at the mere suggestion.

You leave the dildo on the bed and bring Charles into the room and poor little bunny has no idea what’s happening when he sees the longest dildo he’s ever seen on the bed. You try to get him to guess what is happening, but poor bunny can’t be expected to use his braincell!! He thought he was coming to scene with his mommy and his Pierre so the braincell is very much turned off. He’s in subby bunny mode, not thinking mode!!

When you explain it to him, he’s so excited? He can’t think of anything better. Of course pierre has to do all the work, poor little bunny can barely keep himself up nevermind actually fuck back against the dildo.

It’s so hard to find a rhythm, mostly because bunny can’t keep a rhythm. You and Pierre don’t mind at all though, because this is exactly what you and Pierre wanted.

It’s absolutely amazing by the end of course, making bunny feel so good and the knowledge that each time he moves, the dildo also fucks Pierre just blows his little mind.

Of course you stay close the whole time, kissing them and praising them and playing with their cocks until there’s a little puddle of cum under both Pierre and bunny.

SCENARIO FOUR:

Firstly, lando would absolutely be such a tease! Always flashing his Dom and masturbating without permission and just being so naughty so that he has to be punished.

Which isn’t who Charles is AT ALL. Charles is a good boy, and he would NEVER disobey his mommy. But lando keeps on saying how much his Dom loves punishing him and fucking him hard and so Charles starts to think that maybe you want that too? Maybe you would like him to break some rules and be a little naughty?

The ironic thing is that you don’t even have a rule that Charles can’t masturbate on his own? Because he’s such a horny little thing and he’s so good that you want him to feel good as often as he wants. But he always asks for permission anyway, because he always feels so much better when he has your permission and knows that his mommy approves.

But he decides to try masturbating without asking you, and maybe he wears a pretty little skirt that he knows you love and makes sure he does it at a time that you’ll walk in on him.

And the poor thing is so nervous? He’s stroking his cock but he can’t even make himself use the dildo he picked because it’s the dildo you always fuck him with and he can’t do it right himself.

You walk in of course, and he expects you to be mad and punish him. But you would never punish your sweet boy for making himself feel good!! And he looks so cute in his pretty skirt with his hard cock. Like a perfect present for you to play with.

Except he’s so scared because he thinks he’s gonna be punished and he’s realising that he absolutely can’t be punished. He’s a good boy!! But he’s been so bad, he dressed up and he played with himself and he didn’t have his mommy’s permission.

But you quickly jump into the bed and praise him so much, promising him that he’s done so well and he looks so good and you’d love for him to carry on playing with himself because you love for him to feel good.

Needless to say, he never acts out again because he’s a good boy. Not a bad boy. Not like lando.

#sub!charles #cl #f!reader #nsfw.#poly!piarles #pg

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heir-less · 2 years ago

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Harry needs to ask himself why Meg had to cut off her toxic family but he keeps calling racism unconscious bias and believing in monarchy. Whatever therapy he's in is clearly not enough for him to stop being so infuriating and insulting with this bullshit. I feel less and less sympathetic when black twitter refuses to feel bad for these two because really? Ngozi had to halt her work because of fucking "bias"? I know he left a cult but someone needs to be brutally honest with him.

I still haven't watched the interview, but I'm just going to answer this question because you bring up good points.

Yeah, people don't refer to the British Monarchy as a cult often, but it's such an accurate word honestly. The way members, and even members of the public, are indoctrinated from birth to believe in it wholeheartedly is scary. Harry is almost 40 and, while I do think part of him is trying to ease the pressure on him by not being harsh about the monarchy, it's clear that he still feels some connection towards it. He has been groomed for ~30 years to hold the monarchy above everything.

That's typically why I don't find it cute whenever we see clips of Charlotte telling George to bow or stand straight during God Save The Queen. I don't even like seeing her curtsey. She's seven. She has no idea what the implications of these things are and doesn't possess any understanding of the monarchy outside of what her family tells her. And yet already at seven, she's been trained to treat the monarchy with extreme loyalty and will never be exposed to other views about the British monarchy until she's way into adulthood.

I feel like Harry wants to have it both ways sometimes, where he doesn't want to be viewed as an aggressive threat towards the monarchy despite his issues with it and his family, but he also doesn't understand that his story displays things inherently wrong with the monarchy as a system. However, I kind of think he needs to get over it. The people who believe he is an aggressive threat to the monarchy won't suddenly stop believing that, no matter what he says. I don't expect Harry to be a socialist or a republican or a radical. Harry saying yikes-y shit is commonplace. I just want some consistency with his goals, really.

#answered #anonymous #harry #harry on itv

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jawllines · 5 months ago

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OKAY FRIENDS!! LMK :-) IF YOU WANT YN THE HUMAN OR HARRY HERES THE PLOT A LIL

Harry’s reputation precedes him.

Always – he isn’t sure how it started, but somewhere along the line, everyone started thinking he was scary. Was it when he was a kid? Harry had grown up in a cult for the first. . .was it 6 years of his life? In some odd settlement that his mother had been born in, but she took him and his sister and fled one night to her aunt's house three hours away from it. Harry doesn’t remember much of that time and his mum doesn’t like speaking about it, so. . .they just don’t. His sister remembers a little bit more, but she’d pretty much blocked out a good amount of it as well.

Transferring to a new school had been hard, he remembered. He’d been shy, quiet, and didn’t really like to share his toys much. Once a classmate had taken his stuffed bear and when Harry stomped over to retrieve it, he’d accidentally shoved the girl down when he was taking it back. Or, more like she wasn’t letting go and Harry wasn’t either, but he’d been a little stronger so she lost her balance when he grabbed it.

But, since she was a girl – since Harry was a little bigger than all the other kids around him – well, it looked worse than it was.

That must have been it, he thinks, because everyone really avoided him after that. Then it only got worse when, somehow, some way, one of his classmates found out that he’d grown up in a cult – a friend of a friend’s dad told her mum (to this day, he still isn’t sure how they found out).

And that continued through his entire time in primary school and stretched out into secondary school because somehow taking the bear back turned into him shoving her down and pulling her hair. Then that turned into him picking fights with kids all of the time. And that turned into “people going missing in the woods” when they hung out with him because he was indoctrinating them into his cult when they had actually just moved away. Perhaps in UNI, he thought, he could finally stray from the image that they’d painted of him. For a little while he was able to, albeit still terribly shy and without many skills after years of being an outcast, but he was still trying. At least until someone joined his BIO lab midway through the semester, on the same path toward the same degree as him.

As luck would have it, it was the girl who’d stolen his bear all those years ago.

So Harry was right back at the start; maybe he was able to keep a couple of friends, but not many, and everyone continued to imagine him as some scary person. By the time he graduated and started working, he’d given up a life of trying to make friends. Why should he if most of them would turn on him anyway, at the word of someone they’d never met before?

It was sad, sure, but Harry had long since gotten used to the solitude. He found comfort in books that he liked, in television shows with more than three seasons that he could pour his time and attention into, and in movies that were long enough he could shut out any sullen thoughts. Harry found hobbies he could enjoy by himself, straying from the darker places his brain wanted to go. He crochets fuzzy, pink amigurumi cats, and knits bright purple hats decorated with stars. He decorated his flat with bright, happy things that made coming home to an empty place not feel as harsh on his heart.

He adopted a dog, one a couple of years old and standoff-ish that he knew would have a harder time getting chosen over the friendly puppies wagging their tails at everyone who passed them. That was nice, and though it took them a month or so, he and Lychee grew close. Lychee likes watching Harry’s shows with him on the sofa and sleeps at the foot of the bed at night. He’s a sweet, brown, furry little guy – Harry has no idea what breed he is, but he doesn’t think it matters much. He likes to go on walks, and he’s not very good with other dogs, and. . .he just feels like he understands Lychee pretty well.

So, while he’s grateful for his sweet little pup, and even more grateful for the affection and cuddles. . .sometimes, Harry could admit that it would feel nice if it were a human. It was something he ignored, but Harry longed for it – yearned for the skin-to-skin, the warmth of another person beside him. Idle conversation, the sound of them sighing, the thud of their heart if his head laid against their chest. As pathetic as it is, if he closes his eyes and thinks hard enough, for long enough, he can almost pretend like someone is there with him. Feel the ghost of their breath against his nape, the weight of their arms around his waist, or maybe the feel of their back pressed to his torso, the tickle of their hair against his nose.

For the most part, 90% of the time, Harry can pretend none of this affects him, but there’s still that 10% where it’s all he can think about. Needing someone, being close to people, having those interpersonal connections that every human requires. He has no idea how to go about it anymore though, having lost out on the critical developmental learning opportunities in his youth.

So he just. . kind of accepts that he won’t get that. Some people aren’t meant for that kind of love, he supposes.

For someone with poor social skills in that regard, what he’s doing right now doesn’t make a lot of sense.

Harry was taking the stairs at work today – he typically did, because the elevators took forever, and sometimes Harry convinced himself that people were uncomfortable in his presence, so he thought it’s best if he. . .tries not to impose his existence on them. So he takes the stairs, and while the heater doesn’t exactly reach this part of the building, the cold air isn’t awful. Autumn brought a chill that nipped right down to the bone, but Harry wore a thicker cardigan today, his navy one with the light wooden buttons, so he wasn’t shivering.

But when he stepped into the stairwell today, Harry was met with a groan.

Brows knitted, he paused, the only sound was the door slamming shut behind him, echoing against the rising walls. Harry wondered if he’d imagined it, until he heard it again, coming from below the first flight of stairs. Harry knew (from maybe a panic attack or two) that there was a space beneath the stairs where nothing stood, so it was a good spot to hide away if you needed a second. Someone was probably going through something. . it would be rude to interrupt.

Still. . .Harry felt a twist in his gut that told him something might be wrong. And when he heard another sound, a soft whimper, he cleared his throat and took a step closer, “Um, excuse me?” There’s a sniffle, “Are you alright?”

It’s silent for a second, no sounds of distress – Harry wondered if they were holding their breath or something to pretend that they weren’t there. He was about to apologize for intruding and book it up the stairs, but he hears movement, shuffling, and then a head peeks around the corner. Harry blinked a couple of times, his eyes adjusting to the low lighting. . .she seemed familiar, the person he was looking at. He thinks they work on the same floor, maybe? If he heard her voice, then he would know for sure.

She looked. . .distressed. Her hair was mussed, and her eyes were wide, and the way she was biting down on her lip it looked like she might chew through it. Harry pauses, fear flushes through his bones, and a chill makes goosebumps rise at the nape of his neck. Harry is unsure what this reaction is – this knee-jerk, intense sympathetic response to run from danger. But why was she dangerous? She might. . .need help?

“Ah, sorry,” she steps out from behind the stairs, and trips over herself walking closer to him, and oh – yeah, he definitely works with her – the lavender sweater she wore looked familiar, even, “I’m just. . .kind of starving. Do you want to help me?”

Harry is confused, “Oh?” He cleared his throat – when was the last time he spoke to someone for longer than a brief conversation, that wasn’t his mum or sister? He wasn’t so sure, actually – this whole thing felt foreign. Maybe that’s why he felt so weird. “I could. . .do you want me to get you something?”

The girl had been walking toward him the whole time, and though Harry took a step back, she closed the distance almost instantly. Harry makes an affronted sound when her front presses to him, their chests together, the heat of her body is. . .not there. He’d expected her to be feverish, for how she looked, but she wasn’t. She’s ice cold.

“Sorry,” she said again, and she’s so close he can smell her – like something sweet, and fruity. Vanilla and strawberries? Chocolate and citrus? Something good, something that. . .he’s having trouble focusing on when she’s this close. Harry didn’t think they’d ever once looked at each other for more than a second in passing before, and now she was right on top of him, “I hate to – to do this, I’m –” her breath was warm against his throat, though the tip of her nose was freezing.

Harry should yank away. He should pull from her hands, the way she wraps them around his biceps and presses him against the wall to keep him still. Harry should dodge the way that her lips drag across his pulse, how her teeth graze along the drumming vein. Almost every part of his body was telling him to tear himself away, to run from whatever she was about to do, to save himself. 90% of him wants to listen to all his danger receptors blaring off like a foghorn in his buzzing brain.

But 10% of him. . .10% of him melts into it. Being held like this, even by a stranger, is – god, he feels pathetic, but it’s nice. It’s really nice.

Even when he feels two sharp pinpricks against his neck, he doesn’t budge but a soft grimace from the initial pain of it. Her lips fix around his throat, and in a bleary daze, he can tell that she’s drinking from him. His brain can’t even interpret what any of this meant, just that as soon as she bit, after the pain there came something glowy and warm that filled his insides. This feeling is something so completely novel to him, that he has no choice but to revel in it. Not that he could get out of her hold if he tried – her grip on him was impressive, something not human, and something that Harry had no choice but to accept for now.

Harry is unsure how long she drinks from him. He just knew that he started feeling lightheaded, his mind swimming in circles when she finally pulled away. The sound of her swallowing makes him shiver, along with the warm puff of air that she breathes over what he could only imagine is a weeping, bleeding wound. “Fuck,” she murmured, seemingly to herself, and then she comes back into view of him, away from his throat. Her mouth is stained pink from his blood, but she seemed. . .well, she looked a lot better, “God, I’m stupid, sorry, sorry, could you – could you maybe keep this a secret?”

He blinked at her, trying to tell his mouth to move but it didn’t want to. This seemed to bring more stress to her, as she cursed again, then guided him (and she must be pretty strong because Harry is nothing but additional weight to her – he’s not helping much at all) until he was underneath the stairs where she’d been hiding before. She leaned forward, pushed her ear against his chest, and listened for a little while, “Your heart sounds good, so I’m going to get you cranberry juice! Yeah, that should – that should help. I don’t think I took enough to do any damage.”

“Tha’s good,” he slurred, and she winced, and cursed again.

“Ah, shit! Shit, okay, yes, juice! I’ll get you some juice and then we’ll – I don’t know what we’ll do. I’ll get you some juice though.” She stepped back, and Harry bit down on a sad noise, forcing himself not to pout when her hands left him. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall, “Wait here okay? I’ll be right back.”

Harry doesn’t think he could move right now if he tried. This isn’t the worst feeling though; remnants of the warmth he’d been given before still glow through his body. Harry feels. . .good, despite losing some blood, and despite his understanding of the mortal world being skewed in the last five or so minutes. He could still feel the places she was holding tightly to him, the way her nose warmed against his skin the more she drank, and how nice it felt to have her ear pressed against his chest.

He doesn’t care how pathetic it is. . .he savors it.

OKAY MY HALLOWEEN FIC IM GONNA START TODAY!! I WANNA MAKE IT LIKE THIS PATREON BLURB I WROTE (ILL POST IT) AND YOU CAN TELL ME IF YOU WANT HARRY TO BE THE HUMAN OR YN!!

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wanderingwolfwitcher · 4 years ago

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I'm still not over the eskel thing. I cant even comprehend it, you know? Like they could have made him look incredible and then the juxtaposition of his personality! (Don't judge a book by its cover opportunity!) And I've seen things of "omg it's book accurate" ...in what book? He was my favourite character, and I feel like they really missed the mark. (I'm not hating the actor, I hope he gives a great performance ) I'm hoping that the cool demeanor is like a fake out so he will show his calm and kind side

It’s not book accurate in the slightest, just sounds like people trying to rationalize/justify the showrunners incompetence, or they just want a pretty boy Eskel so bad to drool over that they won’t acknowledge he’s clearly not based on his source material or game versions. Eskel above all should look scary and sound intimidating on his first meeting with Ciri and Geralt at Kaer Morhen. Standing alone in the dark recesses of run down Kaer Morhen to greet them, emerging near a torch illuminating his mutilated visage, his voice sounding harsh and metallic, growly, menacing. The book describes him as looking like a monster wearing human clothes, so even the good side of his face is probably a bit beastly, not a good looking or pretty man even before the scars, or likely even when he was young. If he were good looking or pretty apart from the scars it would have almost certainly been noted in the material by Ciri or Triss, and it wasn't. He is described as disfigured, not with a little scar drawn on his face. From Ciri’s perspective I personally imagine him looking something physically closer to Sandor Clegane from A Song Of Ice And Fire when I read his first appearance in the narrative. He's supposed to be intimidating, nearly making Ciri scream... until he opens his mouth and Ciri actually listens to his friendly words, and realizes that he is smiling at her. And there forward he goes from a frightening, monstrous stranger to her and the reader, to the kindest, most reasonable and socially adept and mature Wolf Witcher at Kaer Morhen, now that she and we and later Triss actually get to know him better.

A lot of people are making a big deal about his scars, but as lame and lazy as they are (likely they didn’t want to waste time or effort on him because he won’t be around long), it's not just the scars, that’s not the worst of it. Eskel is a rugged, nearly hundred year old veteran Witcher by that point, he's seen and done it all, like Geralt. He’s been through it. He is not a teenager wearing Witcher clothing, like he seems to be in the show, looking more like a pre Trials student than a grown ass Witcher. He's just too damn young, nothing grizzled about him, has a soft, normal voice and looks show Ciri's age. Wouldn't surprise me if the idiot showrunners went for a romantic angle there before he gets killed off, or some teasing of one. I seriously believe they have made Showskel a combination of Book and Game Lambert, the youngest Witcher who isn’t as close to Geralt, more mean and abrasive, and Leo from the first Witcher game, a young redshirt Witcher who is killed off to inspire angst in the others, and especially Geralt, complete with a funeral ceremony (burned on a pyre in Leo’s case, as it should be, instead of being like an edgy cult and feeding him to wolves xD).

Meanwhile they’ve aged up Lambert, made him more overtly rugged and manly like Geralt, a veteran Witcher, and are clearly priming him to be the ‘brother’ Geralt grew up with, the same age, a friendly disposition, and getting huggy with Geralt, which they most certainly didn’t do in the books. Only Eskel got the brotherly hug, from a man who doesn’t like to show his emotions much, which says a lot. When Geralt thought of Eskel it was always with fondness. Showskel is almost certainly Wolf Chow either way from all the signs, I definitely believe those leaks, the trailer and behind the scenes stuff is corroborating them (along with the show Witchers absurdly and irresponsibly inviting a band of strangers, prostitutes to secretive, professional Kaer Morhen for the winter and Vesemir the old school no nonsense Witcher leader is somehow allowing it instead of kicking them clear out of Kaer Morhen Valley. Also why are there so many Witchers at Kaer Morhen? There are only four Wolf Witchers left in the world, plus Coën the Griffin visiting, too many extras, more redshirt Witchers?)

I wonder if Eskel’s original actor really dropped out over scheduling issues, or because he saw the disrespect Eskel would get, that it was a walk on role to be killed off, discarded. Or if it really was scheduling issues, was Eskel rewritten entirely when he was recast younger, merged with Lambert and traded spots with him, and Lambert given his role in the original script instead? We may never know, but it’s something to think about.

But I digress. Those are my thoughts on the matter. Give me a break, showrunners.

I’ll be hate watching the trainwreck show like I did with the later seasons of Game Of Thrones though, narrating and nitpicking the hell out of it with a bunch of posts. That'll be fun, at least, it was for Game Of Thrones. I’m a glutton for trainwrecks that way.

#eskel #geralt of rivia #the witcher #lambert #vesemir #kaer morhen #ciri #anti netflix #muse info #generic-fandom-name

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casspurrjoybell-20 · 2 years ago

Text

Sky Twizzlers - Chapter 2b

*Warning Adult Content*

Scary Fire Lady - Part 2

All of the doors were blown off their hinges and the Calvary finally arrived. Some of our pack members and others from the local packs flooded the aisles as chaos broke out. People scrambled to escape but even if they got past the wolves in here, they'd be met outside by more. Wren let go of my hand so I could stand up and rush down the aisles. Before anything, I'd see my first mate. I searched frantically for a head of shiny black hair and when I found it, I grinned but it quickly fell away when I noticed the man my mate was with.

The man had a firm grip on my mate's arm and was shouting at him over the chaos. My wolf snapped in my head and I was quick to lunge over the seats to tackle the man to the ground. He shouted in pain and glared at me, flashing elongated canines. So he was a shifter, too. I returned the same courtesy but before I could do anything else, I was thrown off of him. By the sparks that spread across my body, I knew it was my mate.

"This is all a misunderstanding," my mate protested.

I looked up from where I was on the floor to look at him. He was gorgeous.

‘Great, both of my mates are like handsome Gods and here I am, average at best.’

Okay, that thought was a bit harsh, I wasn't that average but I paled in comparison to them. I scrambled to stand up and explain to my mate what was going on but then we heard another explosion that came from backstage.

‘Shit, the captives.’

I looked at my first mate one last time before running past him. The mission came first. We needed to free those captives. Kit... my second mate... I quickly climbed onto the stage and ran behind the curtain, narrowly dodging a fireball. Shit. I rolled to the floor and popped back up, looking at who threw the attack. It was that lady.

Around us, wolves were fighting with other cult members while a few, I saw Wren slinking by, started freeing the captives lined up backstage. I didn't have much time to search for my mate or Kit because the lady, who I was assuming was a witch given her fire attack, lunged at me with absolutely terrifying acrylic nails sharpened into claws. Her hand slashed across my face, momentarily knocking me off-balance before she shot another fireball at me.

I stumbled backward into a crate, feeling the wood dig into my side as I fell into it. Wincing, I didn't have much time before she lunged again with a screech. I quickly grabbed a broken piece of wood and stabbed it into her leg. She cried out in pain and backed off for a moment but it was enough for me to run past her towards the cages. I could feel the blood dripping down my face from where she slashed me but I ignored it for now.

‘Kit, mate, Kit, mate.’

The mantra repeated over and over again in my head until I saw Wren, who was hugging a sobbing kitsune tightly. My shoulders relaxed when I saw that Kit was safe and so was Wren but now my focus was entirely on finding that boy.

‘Goddess, I was so distracted I didn't even get to hear his name.’

It took me a bit to find him, especially with everything going on but I finally found him, curled up in a ball as if to hide from everyone. I ran over, dropping down beside him. His head immediately shot up and our eyes locked. I was quickly drawn into their depths, he had heterochromia but all I could think about was how beautiful it was, those green and brown eyes. His breath caught in his throat and now that I could fully smell him, his scent was intoxicating. I shakily reached a hand out to touch him and he let me, moving his cheek into the palm of my hand.

"Mate," he whispered and my heart fluttered inside my chest.

"Yes I am," I agreed, feeling my throat tighten.

‘Geez, get it together, Aaron. The mission isn't over yet.'

I glanced around, noticing the giant hole in the side of the theater that led outside. The captives were being guided through there while the cult members were fought off. I grabbed my mate's hand, pulling him up. My words quickly died in my throat when I realized he was naked aside from a ragged scrap wrapped around his waist. I could feel my cheeks reddening but I quickly pushed my shock away to lead us outside.

“NO."

That scream made both of us pause and I turned around in time to see that lady plunge her hand through a wolf's chest, coming back out with a bloodied hand. A shiver went down my spine at the sight and I felt my mate freeze up beside me. The lady suddenly locked eyes with me.

Get back here, Aubrey. Father will never forgive you," she screamed, her eyes practically burning with the intense anger that radiated off her in waves of heat.

Aubrey ‘Goddess, what a beautiful name’ whimpered from beside me, so I stepped in front of him, glaring at the lady.

"He can do whatever he wants. You people are disgusting, selling people as if they're objects," I snarled, feeling my wolf on the edge of my conscience.

The lady paused, cocking her head at me. A sudden grin spread across her face.

"Oh my. What's this? Does Aubrey dear have a mate?" she cooed and I was momentarily shocked by her sudden change in demeanor.

The lady slowly walked over and I backed us up with every step she took, closer and closer to freedom.

"Don't talk to him," I warned.

She scoffed.

"I forget how annoying you wolves are."

She suddenly hissed ‘I think this lady was going to get whiplash from all these mood changes’ baring her teeth even if they weren't anything special.

"I'll just have to take care of you before Father comes."

But before she could, she suddenly crumpled to the ground to reveal Wren standing behind her with a raised wooden board. He looked at us and ran over.

"Come on. We're about to leave."

Aubrey pulled at my hand to go but I remained where I was.

"Wait, what about the other one?" I called out to Wren.

"I can't leave my other mate."

"Other mate?" Aubrey echoed, tugging on my hand to get me to look at him.

"Yeah, our other mate."

Aubrey suddenly grinned.

"The tall dark haired man, right?"

I nodded my head. So Aubrey must've recognized the man as his mate as well. We both turned to look at Wren.

"Wren, we're going to go look for our mate. Give us three minutes and if we're not back, leave without us. We'll make it back to base."

Wren bit his lip in hesitation but nodded and left anyway. He trusted me. I breathed deeply, trying to pick up our mate's scent amongst the smoke from fires and the scents of hundreds of other people. I couldn't smell anything, so I pulled Aubrey along back to the theater.

‘Okay. One mate down, one more to go. In and out. Sounds easy enough.’

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sasa-gay-yo · 4 years ago

Text

Just Us (Chapter Fifteen: Dedicate Your Heart)

← Chapter Fourteen

I thought I was going to die. Sitting there hearing his pompous ass ramble on about how better his life than ours in the Capital was going to make me go crazy if he didn’t stop. He seemed to enjoy it too. The way his lips curled into a smirk when he heard Jonas groan next to me as he went on and on about the luxuries of the capital and what the Military Police get for their monthly bonus. I was just trying to keep my best behavior up because Ben had threatened Jonas and me before this meet-up. It was even worse than I thought it was going to be too because Catrin wasn’t there to talk over him. I’d rather hear her babble on about her baby and hair salon than whatever shit is coming out of his mouth now. Duran was point-blank lying about all of this and you knew it. MPs just sit around and do nothing in the capital, and now he was accepted to join a special team that was so top secret, he could only tell us every detail? I didn’t buy it. Also, how was he considered an elite soldier? These were all the thoughts running through your mind while he talked.

“That sounds like an amazing opportunity for you Duran. Maybe we can visit you as a family in the capital after your training.” I also laughed at Ben’s proposal, knowing good and well I was never going to willingly venture onto Duran’s turf where he can bullshit to us even more. If anything, we should show up at a random time so he’s taken by surprise and can’t cover up his lies with a few changes of cash.

“But enough about me,” he feigned, “What’s been going on with you all here back home?” Ben looked at Jonas and me, then to his wife, and realized that he was the only one willing to talk, so he started off about his job and the cafe. I knew I’d be next, so I was trying to build some narrative in my head that Duran couldn’t pick apart. In the middle of the part where I’m trying to figure out how to not tell him about closing the shop for a period of time, Jonas kicked me under the table. As annoyed as I was, when I saw him move his head towards the back door I was the first one out of my chair.

“Fresh air,” I mumbled, before walking out, not hearing Duran’s comment when Jonas got up to join me.

“Those two finally together?” I slammed the door, forgetting that Jonas was right behind, and he walked out holding his head. I mumbled sorry before starting up the ladder to the roof. The spot that Jonas and I always went to do nothing. Once on the roof, it gave a nice view across Trost and I could see the top of the walls where the guns and Garrison sat in wait. A few days ago, the whole of Trost was awoken by cannon fire, and it took all but two hours for the café to be bustling with the rumors that the first titan had reached the outside of Trost. To say it was scary was an understatement, but it was overly annoying that now the people were rejoicing how close the Scouts were to save Trost if anything happened. I don't remember those praises when the mission to reclaim the wall had happened. How easily they could switch up because they needed personal protection astounded me. After that incident, the Scouts had allocated a few people to stand watch every day at the wall to kill any abnormal or call for help if the titans that destroyed Shiganshia were back again. It was morbid, but I was waiting for the day that the Colossal Titan, as people were calling it, reached a hand over Trost’s walls. Staring at them now, I could just picture it.

“Penny for your thought, Ev?” Jonas took out a pack of cigarettes, a habit he acquired in the past few months, and got something out of his pocket to light it. The roof and outside of my apartment was the only place he could do it without getting yelled at by Ben or his roommates. I had done my best to warm him the first few weeks, but he seemed not to care. Still, I had no idea why he started now when he had years previous to do it.

“Thinking about when the Colossal Titan reaches Trost.” He took a drag and just nodded, counting on comments of morbidity to come from my mouth. It was a common theme now.

“Anything else less… intense? I’m trying to have a relaxing time up here before I have to go down and listen to Duran’s mouth.” I smiled lightly, dangling my legs off the edge of the building. I had to think of something else to say because that’s truly all I was thinking about. These days, I don’t try and let my mind run.

“I was thinking about paying a few petty gang members to jump Duran on his way back to Mitras. You want to donate a few notes?” He sighed, this time shaking his head, but I could see the smile on his face. It was a tempting offer for the day we’ve had to endure.

“Unfortunately, my crime funds have run low. If Catrin was here, she’d donate though.”

“She would.” The wind whipped through once, and I put my arms around myself, regretting not storming out with at least a jacket. It was almost winter. One month till the end of the year. Six months.

“How long did Ben say Duran was staying? Am I going to have to entertain him tomorrow in the café?” Jonas snuffed out his cigarette on the brick before leaning back a bit to feel the wind enter his ashed lungs.

“The week I think. At least he’s not staying in your old bedroom. Now I can’t stay at home when I want to for the next week. I have a double shift in two days and it was so much easier to come back here and sleep.” I groaned. God, I was going to have to entertain him and his new happy-go-lucky attitude. That was the worst part. While he was still annoying, braggy, and covertly malicious, the only thing that changed is that he seemed less interested in fighting outright. Actually, it was even more annoying because there wasn’t anything to call him out for upfront. He hid his ass well and Ben seemed to be eating up this fake persona.

“At least Ben isn’t forcing you to make food for this fucking family picnic inside the walls. It’s your fault for telling him about the meadow. I have no idea why now Ben feels like we need to be a family again, I’m almost thirty.” Jonas huffed one in laughter.

“I could think of a few reasons why, but I’d like to keep the peace we’ve made tonight.” I nodded, knowing what some of those reasons were.

“I’m glad you’ve made that decision.” He threw the cigarette off the building and I watched it fall and hit the ground. The last spark flew out of it when it hit the mud, and quickly burnt out. I just stared at it for what seemed like forever.

“If you went back to your old self, you know, became happy again, I’m sure Dad wouldn’t force you on family picnics.” Ah, there it was. The daily comment about my state of emotion. It was different than last time. I wasn’t crying anymore and I didn’t show up to the café with bloodshot eyes from no sleep. No, I was calm. I was living on spite. There would be no tears for someone who would never drop them for me. There was anger. Definitely anger. Sometimes it came out too. The latest victim was Elias who had spilled over a whole pail of water and I yelled at him loud enough for Jonas, who was outside throwing away garbage, to hear. I bought him any sweet he wanted from the corner shop to apologize. He wasn’t the only one I’d let my anger out on.

Hange visits me now. I don’t know why she does it, and every time she sits in his seat. At first, it was annoying to be reminded of him, but I grew to like her conversation. Once, however, she talked about him, and I yelled at her to stop. She seemed used to it for some reason, not even flinching with my harsh words. Even after, she continued as nothing happened and let me feel guilty. The last time she came, about the same time the first titan reached Trost, I treated her to an extra tart because of it.

“This is me now, Jonas. Pretty much.” I pushed back the skin on my nails knowing he would protest that.

“No, it’s not. I’ve never seen you act like this. This isn’t you.” I just hummed, agreeing so he would stop pressing it. I’d try my hardest every day to not think about it. One-track mind.

“You two! Come back down! It’s time for dessert!” The door slammed behind Ben, signaling he’d gone back inside after yelling at us. Jonas stood up before I could say something back, motioning that the conversation was done. This is how it usually went. He was too overwhelmed with the fact that I had no emotion anymore and then just left the conversation.

“Well come on then.”

For the rest of the week, my detest towards Duran was building. He came every day to the café, dressed up in his MP uniform, and talked to everyone like he owned the place. Some of the older women also flaunted over him, remembering the days he was here and making some form of fake past where he actually stayed in the café. I couldn’t even remember a clear time when he was in the café while I was working, and I worked there every day. They must have remembered something very, very different than I did. I just stood there and watched with distaste and told all my grievances to Jonas. On the day of the picnic, I was about to completely snap.

The family picnic had included Elias and June and Jonas’s sister. Elias and June had come to the café that morning, asking if they could stay with me since their family was starting another cult meeting and I agreed, knowing it would be a welcoming distraction to Duran. We were now waiting outside Jonas’s house. Waiting for Duran to put his stupid MP gear on. He thought the citizens of Trost would marvel at his status, not having any MPs here, but I told him that they’d rather spit on him. That set him off once, but he easily controlled it. I guess this new squad needed him to control that nasty ass personality to be in it. Good.

“And the person who bought the book said that it was like brand new! Mr. Philpa even commended me on my work! I really think I’m starting to get the hang of it.” I mustered to give June a smile, trying to keep her happy atmosphere up. I would need it today if I was going to be forced to listen to Duran for hours now. Since I insulted him this morning, I was going to have a target on my back the rest of the day. That was very clear when he complimented how well my makeup covered up the huge black circles on my face. Passive aggressive ass.

“Alright, everyone! Time to head out!” Ben was over the moon that his family had gathered to do something. He was the family man, always. It was probably instilled in him by Mrs. Flynn, at least that’s what Catrin had said, and it was getting to be annoying. I could come to their house to eat, but to forcibly make me make food for Duran who was just going to complain about the flavor? I couldn’t handle that. I swore up and down the kitchen when I was making this last night. As we walked to the Trost entrance, Duran just kept talking, and even at the front of the pack with Jonas and Elias, I could still hear him rambling. It was giving me a headache, which was a telltale sign I was going to burst any minute. This is always what happens when I yell at someone. The anger builds up into physical pain, and I can’t get rid of it any other way. In the dead of the night, I’ll wake up from a dream and find no better remedy than yelling Fuck really loud. It’s embarrassing when I forget Jonas is usually on my couch.

“You good?” Jonas leaned in to whisper in my ear and I just looked at him out of the side of my eyes. He got the memo and continued talking to Elias about his school work. It was too loud in this part of Trost, and Duran’s stupid voice was even louder. This coupled with the fact that people would stop to talk to Ben or even me was getting to be way too much. This is why I stayed in the café most of the time.

“Eva, haven’t seen you come this way for a while,” the Garrison captain called out from where he and the morning watch were playing cards on a barrel. At that moment, I vividly remembered punching him in the face, and I was tempted to do it again as he stopped the whole party to talk to me. The way he said it was definitely hinting at the fact that I was no longer in his secretly assessed relationship.

“I’ve just come when you’re not around, Captain. Probably drunk in a pub somewhere.” Duran was the first to hop into the conversation, ready to begin a military circle jerk.

“Evylnn, that’s not how you talk to a military member! Good morning, Captain.” Duran held his hand out to the Captain who gave one weary look at it and shook it. He remembered Duran correctly and he knew how much trouble he’d gotten into as a kid. He was also probably surprised that he had an MP uniform on when he would throw rocks at the Garrison.

“I don’t know what it’s like in Mitras, but that’s how we talk to them here in Trost, Duran. Then again, what would a military mouse like you know?” He turned and glared, making me reminisce about the real Duran. The signature glare was still there. You just had to wait for it.

“We’re just leaving, Captain. Sorry to bother you!” Ben grasped my shoulder, hard, making me pay for what I’d said to both the Captain and Duran. He pulled me too, right to the front where Jonas and the kids were standing. While he pushed me, he whispered a threat in my ear.

“If this picnic is ruined by you, you’re paying.” I didn’t react, even though I wanted to roll my eyes at him. It wouldn’t be my fault if I said something to make everyone uncomfortable. It would be Duran’s fault because he provoked me. I just tsk-ed as he let me go and started walking back to join Analee.

“You don’t know how bad I want to ruin this picnic now, Jonas.” He sighed, but I could definitely tell it was to hide a laugh in front of Elias and June. When we got to the open gate, the Garrison soldiers saw my glare and just let us through without any protest. Usually, this large of a group would be questioned thoroughly, but since I was in it, they knew not to ask me anything. Duran seemed surprised by this and stopped to yell at them for not doing their job, holding us up again. I just stood there, halfway through the tunnel as he blabbed on and on able the Garrison's responsibility like he was their boss. An MP wasn't going to boss Garrison members around, but here he was in his arrogance, trying to do that.

“You don’t know how to do your jobs! If there’s a group this large the-”

“Scouts are coming!” Someone yelled from above the wall, and when I looked out the entrance, I could see the horses nearing the walls. They were leaving late today, but how could I forget it was the first of the month.

“Please, Miss. Flynn, we're going to ask you to move and stay here till the Scouts progress through. It won’t be that long there isn’t a lot of them.” I was touched by one of the Garrison soldiers, and I quickly shrugged their hand off of me, not wanting to move. I could see Erwin now in front of everyone, and subconsciously I was looking for the black hair. Jonas was the one to come over and drag me to the side of the tunnel so I wouldn’t get trampled on impact.

“How could I forget?” I whispered, and I knew he had heard it. Technically, there were supposed to leave by the time I woke up today, making sure I never was tempted to look out my window when they left. Whenever they came back, I would sit in the back room too. I was making such an effort to never see him, but now I was forced to stand here as the Garrison blocked the two sides of the tunnel. Duran and the rest were held back and only Jonas, Elias, June, and I stood in the tunnel. I couldn't even hide. I was there in plain sight and I knew I would be face to face with him. I hardened my face quickly as they approached. He wasn’t going to get to see any emotion from me. Just like he did to me. He stood on his horse right next to Erwin and right in front of me. I didn’t even look at him like I said I was going to do. I stared right at Erwin who was stopped by the Garrison squad leader to do a head and supply count.

“Commander Erwin!” Elias called out, making everyone who didn’t care about our presence now look right at us. I felt the eyes. I heard some of the whispers. Some of them didn’t die between then and now, and they remembered my face. It was telling too that I couldn’t stare at Levi, but I didn’t feel his eyes on me. He didn’t care about me. I had to remind myself about that. He didn’t care. That’s why he left me. He used me. I just had to tell myself this over and over again to try and forget. I was doing so good recently too. I’d only think about him once a day now, but this instance was going to ruin it. If I even glanced and met his eye, it would all be gone.

“Hello, Elias. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. You’ve grown,” he looked over to me, noticing that the two of us were just glaring at him instead of looking at each other, “Eva. It has been too long.” I fought back the urge to scoff, but I knew I had to respond. I had to let him know I wasn’t hurt.

“It has, hasn’t it Commander. If you come to the café with Squad Leader Hange, I’ll treat you.” I smiled. The best smile I had mustered in months. He needed to know I was done. I was past him. I didn’t need him. I didn’t think of him every night. I didn’t regret not sleeping in my bed once with him. He needed to know that I didn’t.

“Of course I’ll take you up on that offer, Eva. Well, we’ll be off.” He nodded down to the Garrison soldier and they moved the blocks out of the way so the horses and carts could continue. When his horse started walking, I thought it safe to look at him. His eyes were filled with that one emotion. The one that was there when he had nightmares. When he confessed his feelings to me. When he told me about his life in the Underground. The emotion, still unnamed to him, I had labeled pain. He was in pain. I hoped my eyes didn’t display the emotion that I was feeling either. With one look up, and one sheer shot of pain through my heart, I looked back down on the ground. He knew. He knew exactly what I’d been through. What I was thinking. And it was sadistic of me to think that for one second that that look of pain was because he missed me. No, it must have pained him to see how hopeless I was. It must have further proved that I couldn’t live without him. Pain. I was feeling pain. I was feeling it this whole time. These whole six months.

“You may carry on, Mr. Flynn.”

“I didn’t know that you knew the Commander of the Scouts, Eva. Fitting.” I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. He was talking about Kristian. I handed the picnic basket of food to Jonas and took one look at Duran and smiled wickedly.

“I’m sorry you’re jealous that I’m closer to high ups than you’ll ever be, Duran. Maybe if you got on your knees for them like you probably did to get on this special squad of yours, then you’d be in my position. Sorry brother, but I’m not hungry anymore. I’ll be cleaning the café.” Ben didn’t stop me, but I knew he was mad. I’d ruined his figurative perfect family picnic and now he was going to have to deal with a pissed-off Duran and talk about me the whole time. I did feel a bit guilty, but I just couldn’t stand being there. Not now. I took the long way home, making sure not to cross the main road, and walked up to my apartment from the back. I shut all my windows too. Loud. Hoping that maybe if he was situated outside my window in formation, he would hear it.

I left those upstairs windows closed for what felt like forever. Jonas would always complain how stuffy it felt with no light besides oil lamps in the living room, but I always yelled at him if he went to touch them. I need to stop myself from being tempted. Every first of the month, I would hear it. I heard the horses and the carts match forward. I listened to Erwin’s speech each time. Every speech had a similar form and ended with the famous line shinzo wo sasageyo. There would be some lowered shouts and then they would all ride off to the other gate into the land of the titans. Give your hearts. How to give your heart when it’s in pieces? That’s what I thought every time and if the windows weren’t closed, I would have looked out to see Levi. Was he looking up at the windows like he used to? Giving me a firm nod before they left, only to do the same when I saw them come back. I wanted to know so bad, so that’s why I kept them shut. If I looked and he didn’t do it, it would ruin the illusion in my mind that somehow he still had feelings for me.

Eren, Armin, and Mikasa came back too. One last time before they were off to training camp. I was touched that they would remember my single act of kindness, and I treated them to their last sweet meal for three years.

“If we can write letters, Miss. Eva, I’ll write one to you.” Armin told me in confidence, and I nodded, telling him that I would like that. Even if I’d known them for so little, it was hard to see them off to training camp. They were cadets now and Eren was still going on about killing all the titans. I guess it was a bit refreshing to see such passion in his eyes, but it still scared me a little. I told him to calm himself down before they stepped off back to their last night in the Garrison storeroom. They waved, even Mikasa, and I made them take a little food-to-go. Once they were done with training, they would be stationed in Trost as cadets before going to be Scouts. They would visit me then, they promised. I would be able to see them all grown up. I also told them that I would probably be able to see them when they graduate regardless, but it gave something for the others to look after. Armin and Mikasa seemed much less enthusiastic to go out in the field and kill titans.

“Their names are Eren, Mikasa, and Armin. At least, Eren said he wanted to join the Scouts.” I passed the cup of coffee over to Hange who seemed to be scribbling furiously in her notebook. I had to even light a candle since she had stayed so late, stuck by some inspiration. After their last exhibition, she’d gotten to study a titan’s gut up close and she said she needed an extra dose of coffee to be able to draw everything.

“If they want to be in the Scouts that bad they will. Only the top 10 people get to be an MP and then the rest usually go to the Garrison. Scouts are a special breed. We usually only get twenty in good years.” I took a sip of my coffee, not caring about how long I’d stay up tonight. I’d probably be here talking to Hange either way. She seems to have made it her mission to not let me feel lonely. Every time she comes she has little tasks for me or something that she needs to consult people for. I never get sleep on the days that Hange comes, but I feel a bit warmer slipping into bed.

“I have a brother who went to the MPs, that means he was in the top ten of his class?” I gave her a look of disbelief. There was no way Duran was actually good at what he did. Top ten my ass. He would be bragging about it if he was.

“The only way they would allow that if most of the top 10 pick Scout or Garrison. The MPs need to hit a certain quota every year, so that could be why. What do you think of this? Is it proportional to the titan's body?” She showed me her notebook and pointed to something that looked like a small intestine. I shrugged.

“Hange, I don’t know what titans look like.” She sighed, nodding.

“You’re right, I forget that you aren’t a Scout. You know, you’re the only person who isn’t a Scout that I know.” I didn’t know if I should take that as a compliment or not.

“Don’t you have a family, Hange?” She pulled back the notebook and erased the part she pointed out at me, redrawing it.

“Well, yeah, but they don’t count. It’s just my parents and they don’t really care about titans either. I think they’re just fascinating.” I gave her a light smile before turning to look out the window at the setting sun. The snow was starting to melt now, but relatively early. I wondered what Eren and the others were doing. If it wasn’t dinner, then probably more training. Their first day was only a few days ago and Hange had told me again about the man who trains them. Hard as a rock and yells really loud. She didn’t have him personally, but he spent his last year in the Scouts when she had just joined.

“I wish I knew more about titans and the military. A lot of people I know are in the military, so it would make sense, you know?” She put her pencil down and crossed her hands.

“If you want to know more about titans I can tell you about all my experiments. If you want to know more about the military, you can ask me. I’ve been there a while.” She pushed her glasses up again and I turned to look at her. Hange really was an almanac in front of me.

“Do titans really look like they draw them in the newspaper? They look like big humans?” A finger went up as she started her lecture.

“Titans have faces like humans sometimes, and other times their features are often... oversaturated. We have no idea why this variation happens occurs. Some look like big versions of you and me, and others look like they have giant eyes, a small forehead, and huge lips. Like three feet long lips. They’re naked too, but without human genitalia. It’s just bare down there. Most of the time, they just look like pink humans. Then there are abnormals.”

“I’ve heard those words before,” I pointed out and she nodded quickly. I wasn’t going to tell her who I heard it from, but I’ve heard it.

“Abnormals are those who don’t act like regular titans. They might have more intelligence or partially weird bodily traits. Some can jump, others can crawl. You probably heard it when people talked about Shiganshina. The two titans that broke through the walls were abnormal. One was taller than the walls and the other was really muscular and had armored plates on its body. And it was yellowy-orange, which is not a titan color. But you want to know why those titans are even more abnormal than abnormals?” Her eyes lit up in the candlelight, and it was almost scary how she was getting when talking about this. I wondered how the Scouts got so lucky to find someone like Hange to discover these things for them.

“Why?”

“They disappeared. Poof!” She yelled using her hands, “Into thin air! No matter which titan they are, the body is always there to cut into. Once we got there, both the Colossal and the Armored Titan were gone in thin air. There was no way that would happen with any normal titan. I just want to know why! This is like one of the biggest titan secrets ever!” They disappeared into thin air?

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know!” She seemed delighted with this information, “You can see why people left this out of the newspapers. The citizens would go crazy if they knew a titan that was like 80 meters tall just walked off!” She went off in her usual manic laughter after that, just overly joyed that a titan like this could have an ability like that and she was one of the only people who could figure out the mystery.

“Hange, are you supposed to tell me all of this?” She stopped laughing and blinked once or twice before breaking out into a smile again.

“No.” This made me laugh too. That was Hange’s ability. I don’t laugh unless it’s about her. Really laugh. She says jokes or acts in a way that lightens the mood in the empty café. I thank her for that regularly.

“Hange, it’s getting late, you should probably head out. You have an expedition tomorrow… Unless you want to stay here. I have space upstairs.” This was the first time Hange had come over when an expedition was the next day. She apparently snuck out to come here and it would probably be hard to sneak back in. I knew by the way her eyes lit up too that she was going to agree.

This is how I found that, besides the length of the pants, Hange and I were the same size. She sat on the couch, a blanket around her shoulders, staring down at the notebook with the same intensity as earlier. This would be the first time Hange had stayed over. Hange was also very comfortable with this idea. I offered her space in my bed and she took it right away. However, this began to be a mistake on my part because she couldn’t stop talking next to me.

“This bed is really comfortable, what is it made out of?”

“Feathers.”

“If you had to choose between eating a whole onion or eating a cockroach, what would you pick?”

“Can I choose neither, what kind of question is that?”

“Okay, eaten or stepped on by a titan.”

“... stepped on.”

“I agree!” At first, it was a welcomed distraction. When I was alone in my bed, these were the times I thought of him. Especially since I would wake up to the sounds of the horses at my front door. I wouldn’t cry anymore. It had been too long. Pretty soon, it would be over a year of loneliness and discontent. I hadn’t seen his face since the picnic disaster, and all I had of him were the letters. The letters that I now kept shoved under my mattress so that I could read them. Over and over. The letters that hid his lies. I fed into the lies too. When I read the letters, I didn’t feel alone. I would revert back to the times when I met him. The times when he wrote me these letters. When I was in love. Who am I kidding, I’m still in love. I never forgot. That’s why the letters are sitting under my mattress, right below my arm. It hurt. It always did. Loving someone who didn’t love you back. I never experienced it till now. This was how Jonas felt.

“Eva?” Hange asked, seeing that I was staring up at the ceiling, getting lost in my thoughts. I’d have to remember that she was there. I couldn’t wake up screaming into the night like I had before. She wouldn’t ignore it like Jonas did.

“Yes, Hange?” She shifted so that she was facing me.

“He still asks about you.” My heart clenched and I closed my eyes. No. Not now. It was fueling me. The thought all the way back in my mind. He was lying. He did love me.

“Does he?” It was hard to spit out and it sounded like a whisper when it didn’t mean to be.

“I’m not allowed to tell you everything, but he does. He misses you.”

“Why are you telling me this, Hange?” I could feel her smile next to me, and I turned my head to see it. It was a smile that was hiding secrets from me.

“Because I want to make you two happy again. You two aren’t happy like you were before.” I sighed, turning away from her as I felt tears well in my eyes. There goes my three-month-long record of no crying.

“He doesn’t love me, Hange. You of all people know that.” She tsk-ed, just like him.

“You’ll know soon. Both of you will. I know it.” I sniffled once, and she already had her hand on my back. Great. She heard me. Was she going to tell Levi about this?

“It’ll be okay, Eva. Trust me.”

The next morning, she woke me up. She was already dressed and hopping around the apartment and I just took my first few steps out. The front windows were open too, for the first time in months. The light was radiating down onto the kitchen counter and living room table she was currently sitting at, gathering her things.

“Good morning, sunshine! Isn’t it such a nice day to go see some titans?” I huffed once, rubbing my eyes to get them more awake. This was the earliest I’d been up at in a while. Only Hange would say something like that this early in the morning.

“Don’t you need your gear?” I walked to the kitchen, looking out at her in the living room.

“Moblit will bring it. He knows I’m here. He’s a member of my squad.” I nodded, turning on a kettle to make hot water for coffee. I’d offer it to her as retribution for comforting me last night. Maybe I’d ask her to not tell him what happened either. I didn’t want him to know I was still weak after all this time. She just looked down at her notebook, writing more and more things in it, a book to her left. I never knew how she could read so much.

“Coffee?” I offered to after I poured some, but she shook her head, saying it would make her even more jittery during the expedition. I could already see that when the time entered for the horses to be filling up in Trost’s main drag that she was shaking, not with fear, but excitement. What a weird girl, I thought, shaking my head at her. We talked a bit here and there about the expedition's plans, but at this point, we were both waiting for the Scouts to come and pick her up. I was planning too. Planning whether I would close up those windows as she exited.

When they finally came, she did something unexpected. She grabbed my wrist, letting me put on some proper shoes, and then pulled me down my front stairs to hundreds of eyes preparing for take-off. It was a bit embarrassing that I was just in a single nightgown in front of all of them, and Hange seemed to forget I was only wearing sandals as she pulled me.

“Moblit!” She yelled and pulled me into the middle of the Scouts. Now, I was feeling really watched. Those who survived had now seen my face for the third time. When Hange yelled, a long-faced blonde turned around, ODM gear in his hand. He looked shaken too like he was about to get yelled at.

“Moblit, this is my friend, Eva! I was having a sleepover at her house last night. My gear, thank you!” The blonde man, Moblit, dropped her gear and bowed to me. I bowed a little bit back, putting my hands on my arms. The morning was still not yet a summer one, so wearing nothing over my slip was making me start to freeze. Everyone here had on a coat and the signature green cape while I was bare.

“Hello, Moblit,” I managed out and he turned to Hange to talk about something. I just stood there, not knowing if I was able to just leave, or if Hange had wanted to talk more. With every passing moment, I was getting more and more anxious about seeing one face in the field. That’s why I was staring right at Hange, eyes not moving anywhere no matter how tempted I was.

“Oh my goodness!” Hange announced loudly, making others turn to look again, “You’re freezing! How could I drag you out here like this!?” She turned around to look through the bags on the cart behind her. She was probably looking for something to give me so I wasn’t freezing and shivering. This probably meant that she was going to make me stand and talk to her before Erwin dismissed the families. That’s what usually happened. Some wives, husbands, and families who relocated to Trost would come in the morning to say goodbye for, possibly, the last time, and Erwin would politely dismiss them before giving his big shinzo wo speech.

“Moblit, do we have any extra capes, I can’t find on-” The green dropped over my shoulders rather sloppily, but I could feel the warmth left behind by the previous wearer. I didn’t want to turn behind me to see who it was though. I knew who it was. So did Moblit. So did Hange. So did the others who were still looking at me. They knew who had given me the cape, and they were surprised at the generosity. I was scared. Scared of the generosity. What did it mean? How did it align with what Hange said last night?

Mint, lemon, and cedar.

“Please, don’t expose yourself in front of my cadets.” The horse trotted off to the front, but his foot lightly brushed my back. Just that one touch. That one single second. It sent a chill down my spine. It had been so long since I’d touched him. The last time was our last goodbye. Just like the families here in Trost. I’d held him on my doorstep, right before the expedition, not knowing that it would be our last goodbye.

Hange stood up, giving me the same smile she did last time. It said those two words. Trust me. What was Hange doing? Had she changed his demeanor? Why could I still feel that chill down my spine? Why was I holding his cape so close to me when I should’ve been throwing it on the ground?

I took the cape off my shoulders, taking one look at it before giving it back to Hange. I wouldn’t let him do this. I wouldn’t let him care about me. The chill, however, was unbearable after I handed it back. It wasn’t just the chill of the morning wind anymore. It was the chill of his eyes still on me as I handed it back to Hange.

“I-I need to get the… the café, yeah, I need to get it ready.” She nodded, the smile still on her face, and I turned around to go back up to my apartment.

“That’s cute! Haha, look at this, Moblit. Levi marks his cape with a little L so he knows it’s his!” I stopped walking. I was at the edge of the Scouts, all of them behind me, yet if I looked to my side I would get a view of him. He was always on the right of Erwin. So, that’s what I did. After Hange said that, I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and locked eyes. There it was again. Pain. His eyes were full of pain. Vivid pain that made me feel it too. My heart twisted inside, and I was so close to getting caught if I didn’t stalk up the stairs to my apartment and close the door. I crouched down, my back against the door, the tears coming again. Pain. That’s all I felt. Pain. Why had he done that? Why was I suffering this whole time? Why had he put an L on his cape? What was it supposed to show me? Why were we suffering? Why couldn’t he just tell me plainly? Why couldn’t I understand what he was doing? Why? Why? Why?

I cried through Erwin’s speech, his words a lot louder this time. They were echoing in my head. About sacrifice. About saving the world. Everything that would make an apprehensive cadet ready to go outside the walls and die. And then he ended it. That one phrase.

“Cadets! Scouts! The people of Trost! Shinzo wo sasageyo!” The cries lifted in the air. They made my head hurt. I wondered if Levi heard my cries from inside my apartment. I held my head in my hands.

“I can’t. I can’t dedicate my heart. Not again. Not again.”

Jonas found me like that when I didn’t show up for his morning delivery. The café remained closed that day. And the next. I closed the windows back up too. Jonas didn’t question what happened either. He just stacked up the delivery boxes in the stock room and then left, promising he’d come back later when he was off. When he came back, I was still in the same spot he put me on the couch. He echoed his words from the first time.

“What did he do?” and I just shook my head.

xx just a cute little double update for yall

Chapter Sixteen →

Chapter Masterlist

#levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi ackerman scenario #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x oc #AoT #aot levi #aot x reader #snk levi #snk x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #Captain Levi

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wutbju · 4 years ago

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The REAP site has all the plaintiffs' stories, but Elizabeth Faith Hunter is our fellow BJU alum. Hear her words:

EIizabeth Hunter lives in Greenville, SC. She lived in foster care until the age of 10 and survived a sexual assault during this time, after which she was placed with a family and grew up in Texas as part of a fundamentalist Christian cult. She identifies as a lesbian. Her parents did not want her to attend college because she is a woman, but she applied to Bob Jones University without her parents knowing, because it was one of the few colleges that she thought she could attend without being disowned. Bob Jones University has a student handbook detailing rules of behavior for students and includes several specific anti-LGBTQ+ policies, including regulation of romantic and sexual relationships between people of the same sex. “As someone figuring out their sexuality while at college, Bob Jones University’s policies on sexuality and marriage created a scary, harsh environment for me,” Elizabeth said. During her junior year she came out to a few friends and began posting online about LGBTQ+ themes, including mentioning that she was reading a book featuring a lesbian and writing a book where one of the characters is in a lesbian relationship. During a three hour meeting with a BJU administrator, where she was summoned without advance notice, she was told by school leadership that she “must be gay” for reading and writing these materials. She told them she was “not straight” but that she had not broken any policies. “I was asked to disavow my support for LGBTQ+ rights and relationships. I refused,” she said. “It would have been like disavowing myself.” BJU immediately placed Elizabeth on disciplinary probation, charged her a monetary fine, terminated her from her on-campus student life position in the school’s media department and forced her to attend mandatory counseling with the Dean of Women. “This was the darkest month of my entire life. I felt depressed and suicidal. For the rest of my time at BJU, I was forced completely back into the closet and had to hold my head down in shame. I survived and graduated in May of 2019. But I still feel the sting of the discrimination I endured.” She is raising her voice to protect all LGBTQ+ students at Bob Jones University and religiously affiliated colleges across the country.

#Bob Jones University #REAP #Elizabeth Faith Hunter #Eric Newton #Deneen Lawson

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akari-hope · 4 years ago

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So this isn’t meant to be rude, I’m just kinda lost I guess. I’ve seen a lot of ppl talking about spop’s ties to religious fundamentalism & the trauma it often causes, repression, & overcoming internalized homophobia, among other things. And I guess I’m just confused as to where those things are present in the show? The repression thing I can see (Adora makes it pretty obvious) but I think the other things are going over my head. Am I missing symbolism that should be very obvious?

soooooo i'm probably not the BEST at explaining this, but i'm gonna do my best. and bc i know these are really sensitive and triggering topics for a lot of the fandom-

content warning: discussion of religion, cults, homophobia, and conversion therapy.

for the record, i don't think it's incredibly obvious unless you as an individual have experience with these things firsthand. they're not written into spop directly, it's just a bit more coded than that. people who know will recognize it immediately, but people who don't might totally miss it. and that's bc noelle stevenson, as a person who grew up in a very christian environment, purposefully wrote it that way.

they've mentioned before that horde prime is directly inspired by real life cult leaders, and that's definitely pretty apparent. i think just about anyone could look at the level of control he has and the way he exerts it and get the idea it's "cultish". the important connecting thread here is that many evangelical/fundamentalist christian sects are, by all definitions, cults. i'm not taking potshots at your average everyday christian, i'm talking about organizations like jehovah's witnesses and the mormon church (which is the hellhole i crawled out of). these are organizations that use religion to manipulate and keep tight control over their group. you're not supposed to keep friends outside of the group. and they make sure that you don't WANT that, either. you know how mormons and jehovah's witnesses will come to your door? try to talk to you about their religion? yeah, that ain't for you - that's for THEM. that's a cult control method. you send the believers out into the world, where they try so hard to spread the Good Word, and are met with indifference and even hostility. so they run back to the group, where they feel safe, and comforted. where they're told they were so brave to go out into the scary world, with all the godless heathens. it ingratiates them further to the cult, they become more reliant on it. and tbh i don't even think i need to expand on the idea that being gay is a "sin" and you need to repent for it in order to stay in the good graces of the cult.

so, now that we've got that established, let's look at the horde. even just under hordak, we can pretty clearly see similar things happening. soldiers are raised in the horde from a very young age. they do not have any socialization with people outside the horde. loyalty and obedience is met with praise. anything less is met with punishment. the leader is treated with a level of reverence not unlike the way cult leaders are framed. we see that the horde soldiers are very much told that they're doing what's right, and adora has to confront some pretty harsh truths in order to start deprogramming from the "everyone outside of the horde is evil" mindset. and we even have shadow weaver preaching to adora, her prized student, about how catra is a "distraction". while it's not direct homophobia, noelle has said that it's meant to be a form of it, and tbh i 100% got that vibe.

enter horde prime. the cultishness and religiosity of the horde gets ramped up an INSANE amount once he enters the picture. our introduction is that even someone as "devout" as hordak wasn't good enough - he dared to become his own person, to embrace "imperfections", and that is not allowed. so he has to be "reprogrammed", to become pure again. and how is this carried out? oh, he's submerged in a pool. sounds kinda like baptism to me. all while the rest of the clones chant things like "cast out the shadows" and "all beings must suffer to become pure". which...yeah if that doesn't sound like repenting for sins idk what does. for my own comfort, i'm not gonna go too in-depth on this point, but the way catra is baptized and controlled too feels WAY too close to conversion therapy for comfort. the line "come into the light with me" really isn't even trying to be subtle.

even after catra is rescued, neither her nor adora are able to admit to each other their true feelings. adora's repression is pretty obvious, where she seems to not even consider that being with catra romantically is something she can even want. but catra's got her own version too. shadow weaver is looming over them, and even without her, catra is convinced that she can never have what she wants.

"adora doesn't want me. not like i want her."

"adora isn't messed up, not like me."

hopefully all of this made sense, or at least put some of the elements into perspective. i'm speaking mostly from personal experience here, so some of this may not be accurate to other people's lived experiences or interpretations. lots of other people have made great posts about this topic as well, going more in-depth and drawing direct comparisons between spop and parts of the bible (@/horde-princess springs to mind if you wanted to read more on this, don't wanna tag in this long post though lol).

#anon #religion mention #cult mention #homophobia mention #conversion therapy #long post #please lmk if i missed any tags #also i am so sorry i hope all this makes sense i am running on 5 hours of sleep

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years ago

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On Azula Fans vs...The Rest Of The Fandom???

So I was talking with several people (@wingsfreedom, @wish-i-was-fiction, and @iabsentmindeddreamer--though I didn’t actually reply to them, just read their post) on this post (https://wish-i-was-fiction.tumblr.com/) and I wanted to write my own desperate post as I have been kind of thinking about for a while but have been hesitant to post because Idk how it would be received/I don’t want to start anything. But it looks like a thing has already started so I might as well.

I’ll start by saying that this isn’t a Bryke, Yang, or any part of the fandom hate post.

The thing I’ve been wanting to talk about is that I feel like Azula fans (and Zutara fans) are kind of being ostracized by the fandom and I feel like the creators kind of help that happen.

I can’t say when I started feeling this, I think that it might have been around the whole Azula vs Katara debate. That whole ordeal made me feel like Azula fans just aren’t taken seriously/aren’t respected even in in civil discussion. Like I ended up pulling out of that debate because I felt as though people were becoming dismissive and/or aggressive. I’m not saying it was everyone, not at all. But there were a handful. And yes, I am aware that it came from both sides. But that debate has since died down, which I’m glad for.

The point is, things like this seem to keep happening. I also think that there’s a certain user who keeps targeting specific portions of the fandom and says things in the fan tags that come off to me as very instigating and antagonizing. These posts tend to lead to a whole bunch of people coming along to completely drag Azula’s character through the mud and eventually her fans as they try to defend her character and justify liking it. I’ve since blocked that user, because (though they’ve always been rather civil with me) I just got tired of seeing hate towards a fandom I’m in and I started to worry that I wouldn’t be able to keep conversation civil. I say this because I want everyone to know that, though I’ve mentioned this person, I don’t particularly have bad blood with them or whatever. Those two things I mentioned were kind of the catalyst in me thinking that Azula fans are kind of isolated from the rest of the fandom.

And if this is beginning to sound familiar; I turn everyone to Zutara. The very first part of the fandom to be cast out of the fandom in a sense. Now I never shipped Zutara, in fact I hate it very much. And I used to think that the Zutara fans were ‘bitter’ and ‘hostile’. Now I kind of sympathize with them. I feel like that bitterness comes from not only not being able to see their ship on screen, but also because they’re kind of the black sheep of the fandom. To the point where even the creators seem to shit all over them and make fun of them and this is NOT okay. Because when creators start making fun of sections of the fandom, even in jest, it basically gives the fandom a green light to do the same. Like, ‘oh the creators do it, so its fine if we do’. It creates for a very bad and unfriendly atmosphere.

I feel as though the same thing is starting to happen with Azula fans. With Yang calling them a cult (even if this was a joke I feel like it is in very poor taste) and Hicks saying that they are scary. Etc.

There are two things that I think happen here (and it is the same stuff that happened with Zutarians).

1. Anti’s post hate in Azula’s tag (and the Zutara one) and fans get ont he defensive

2a. Some vocal people--seemingly on twitter--send hate to creators and the creators react creating a chain.

2b. Some fans started

I’ll discuss point 1 first because this happened first. I feel like one of the biggest problems is that a handful of people have begun to post Azula hate in her fan tags. Once upon a time people kept hate out of the fan tags with the exception of one or two posts every now and again. Then it started happening. And I have never seen an instance where massive amounts of hate in a fan tag was met with a positive response. The hate was posted and there was a reaction. Some fans were more kind in their responses and others got more aggressive. The amount of aggression increased as the volume of hate increased. And this I understand why Azula fans and Zutara fans get so irritated. We just want to enjoy our tag and see love for Azula and Zutara. But people keep knocking them. And so it puts fans on the defensive and starts a chain; hate is posted, fans argue back, anti’s now feel justified in their hate (and fans feel justified in their outrage), and more fighting happens.

All the while a second chain was being created. Unfortunately I do think that this one was started by the Azula and Zutara fandoms (mostly on twitter). I’ve noticed and have been bothered by this. I’ve been rather quite on this one because I like the people in this fandom and I love talking to them. But there are a few people who I feel like are being rather unfair or harsh. I feel like this fandom has become a bit of an echochamber for shitting on the comics and on other characters (mostly Iroh, Zuko, and Ursa) and I can see how that would be off putting. Like people started woobifying Azula and using other characters to prop her up I feel like this actually drove several people away. Granted I feel like this was actually a bit reactory as well--people kept using Azula and hating on her to prop Zuko up and so the opposite began to happen. But I digress; I’ve started to notice that people started taking an almost ‘Azula did nothing wrong/is the victim mentality’. And I strongly disagree with that. I won’t get into that now because that’s not the discussion. But it began to get off putting for me personally. But I like the character and fans of her enough to stay.

Between the above and that crazy Sokkla vs Tyzula ship war, we lost a lot of really fun people who used to shitpost, make fanart, and write fics. And so the bulk of our tag has disintegrated into discourse and arguing instead of having fun like back in the day.

And then the hate began to stray from discourse to, actually sending hate to the creators; Yang in particular. Again I think that this was more of a twitter thing (hence why I don’t use twitter, I think that it’s a nightmare of a site tbh and a breeding ground for bad behavior). A good vocal few kept complaining about how the comics and show were/was being written and after receiving so many harsh comments the creators began to react. I’m gonna just say it; I don’t think that Bryke (in the above link) was in the wrong here. I feel like they were pretty tactful and respectful in their wording. And as a fic writer I 100% agree with them that it is their story and so they should write it as they see fit, even if I don’t like xyz plotline. And as someone who has had someone try to strong arm me into writing my fic their way, I understand their frustration. My issue lies with Yang mostly. His ‘the Azula fandom is kind of a cult’ left a really bad taste in my mouth. Joke or not, this kind of grants people permission to judge the entire fandom. And we already saw it a bit in the very clip. This girl asked an innocent question, that response was her answer, and the crowd actually laughed. I feel like that was probably very uncomfortable for her. This was followed up by Hicks saying “I got a scary email from an Azula fan...please be nice to me guys”. Again, I’m not gonna knock Hicks too much because I feel like she’s still new (at least to Avatar) and that hate-mail can be quite rattling.

The point I’m trying to make is that a second chain has been created. Once Yang made his cult remark that cued a lot of outrage in the Azula fandom and it was a green light for them to openly hate on him and his work. Which is something that was already happening. In this regard I am kind of on Yang’s side. I’ve noticed that the fandom began to religiously knock Yang for everything he did with the comics in the same way that Zutarians started knocking Bryke for everything Kataang. Again I found myself off put by all the hate because I actually kind of enjoyed the comics. Discussion of the comics always seemed to lead to more debating over whether they were good or not. I do feel like Yang didn’t like Azula’s character from the start, but people sending hate and him seeing this probably didn’t help.

Eventually he reacted with his cult remark and so the fans felt justified in being more spiteful to the man. They started posting more hate. And so Yang probably feels more justified in thinking that her fan base is scary. And so the people who haven’t been posting hate and sending mean tweets his way are viewed as scary and mean too.

Where I disagree with Yang is that he made that remark at all. While I understand being frustrated, I really hated that generalization. As mentioned above, even the fans who liked the comics are now associated with unkindness and hate. I really enjoyed the comics, though that enjoyment is kind of shadowed by a feeling of being unwelcomed. And with his generalization I think that it kind of puts a bit of the stigma around the fandom in the exact way that Zutarians have a stigma of being hostile.

And when such a stigma is created it starts to become true because the fans feel like, ‘well they already see us this way, might as well be this way’. It starts to become true because others go into the tags to knock fans for being aggressive to the creators and so more people get defensive and the cycle just continues.

Now with Azula’s fandom, this is only just starting, but I can see it getting to Zutara levels pretty quickly. And that’s a shame because this fandom is something I have enjoyed for a while and I like being able to react with other parts of the fandom. But personally I haven’t been venturing outside of the Azula tag much because I feel like I’m only going to see hate and arguing if I do.

Idk, I hope that this didn’t come off as antagonizing to anyone because I’m not trying to blame any one group of people. Tbh I think that everyone has kind of played their part in this hot mess. I just really wanted to get this off of my chest. Mostly because I want people to tell me that I’m wrong lol and that the Azula fandom isn’t becoming a black sheep fandom and that I’m seeing something that isn’t actually there lmao.

I hope that I was able to explain things clearly, fairly, and kindly. Feel free to discuss in the comments and stuff.

#Avatar #Azula #Zutara #Fandom #Bryke #Gene Luen Yang #Discourse

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

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Whumptober Day 19

Grief | Survivors Guilt

Ao3

-o-o-o-o-

It's a cold autumn night when Tim enters the manor. There's been an early snowfall this year, one that has Tim shrugging off his winters coat and hanging it up beside the manor's front door along with his gloves.

He looks around the foyer, thankful to immediately spot Alfred walking towards him from the familiar hallway leading towards the study. However, any kind of good mood Tim was in from being back at the manor for the first time in what was probably close to a month leaves when Alfred gets close enough for him to see the little, worrying details.

He's not wearing a suit or tie. Just dress pants and a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There's spots of red on Alfred's sleeves... and a rag is held in his wrinkled hands, stained with blotchy pink spots.

And Tim suddenly remembers why he's here.

"Hi, Alfred," Tim greets as Alfred finally finishes approaching. He looks haggard. Likes he's been up all night. He probably has been.

"Master Tim," Alfred says, offering a small smile. "I apologise for not greeting you earlier. I trust the travel wasn't unpleasant?"

Tim shakes his head. Roads were scary slippery, but because the snow is still fresh and the time’s approaching dawn, there wasn't much traffic to make Tim's drive from the penthouse towards Bristol too horrible. "It was fine. And you don't need to apologise… I'm sure you've been busy. Where is…?"

Alfred sighs, his hands running through the rag without much purpose. Alfred's shaken. Tim heard it was bad, but he didn't think it was this bad.

"Masters Dick and Bruce are both downstairs with Doctor Thompkins. Master Dick has yet to wake, but considering we've just finished surgery, I don't expect him to be awake in the near future."

"How bad is he?"

Alfred sighs and moves so he drapes the blood stained rag over his wrists. "Major head trauma is the worst of it. Some broken ribs, a snapped wrist, mostly bruises and cuts. Doctor Thompkins is hopeful that he'll make a full recovery in time."

"And… Damian?"

Damian was there right? He was a part of this whole catastrophe? Nightwing and Robin were supposed to be on a team up. With a sinking stomach, Tim realizes Damian must have watched Two-Face repeat his ever so famous beating of Nightwing tonight.

Tim hopes Harvey Dent and his stupid grudges stay in Arkham for a very long time this time around. If Tim sees him any time soon, Tim's not sure he'll be able to pull his punches as much as he should.

Alfred's voice pulls Tim out from his thoughts. "Master Damian is… outside. Near the Graveyard. I was just about to check up on him, it's rather cold out..."

"Know what?" Tim says. "I'll get him. You look like you could use a nap."

Alfred's face softens. "If you're sure… then I will begin making some hot chocolate for the two of you to warm up."

"Thanks, Alf," Tim replies, a genuine smile rebelliously appearing on his lips.

After he shoves himself back in his jacket and gloves, he's sure he’s prepared for how cold it is outside in the October air.

Immediately, he's pelted by a harsh, gray colored wind speckled with small, glittery flakes of snow. The snow is wet, immediately melting when it touches his coat, and just managing to glaze the grass, but regardless of that it's still cold.

What's Damian doing at the Graveyard at this time with this weather?

The trek towards the Wayne Graveyard is mostly uneventful besides a few slip ups on the stone path. He almost falls on his ass once, but by the time he sees the gate towards the family graveyard, he's relatively unharmed.

The moment Tim walks past the gates, his eyes immediately fly towards the back of the plot where a giant angelic statue stands, her face shrouded with a hood and her hands brought up in prayer.

Jason Todd's grave, Tim feels, has always been a part of Tim's life. Because his life never really began until Robin, didn't it. Which is… depressing to say but he can't really call the years spent practically alone with his emotionally distant parents anything close to a life. Tim decides to head that way. If Damian is sitting at any grave, it's probably near the ones dug recently, and not the old, weathered ones filled with names belonging to Wayne's no one actually really knows about.

Ya know, no one knows about until they’re revealed to have been a part of some super secret old-timey cult or something.

He's probably at Martha and Thomas's graves, wondering what it would be like to have known them. The most experience he has with grandparents is Ra's Al Ghul, and, well, no one wants that guy as a grandfather.

However, when Tim finally sees the form of a small teen squatting besides a grave, it's one that's no longer… valid. But one that keeps it's gravestone anyway, the dates scratched off.

Tim feels something try to crawl into his throat to choke him.

Of course the grave Damian's visiting is Dick's.

Tim immediately decides to make his approach more cautious than what he was initially planning. He can't… really think of a time where he's seen Damian sit at this grave, even while they thought Dick was actually dead. Tim was… off with the Teen Titans and if he remembers correctly Damian wasn't even in the country for long after he came back to life. Bruce got amnesia and for quite a long time, it was only Alfred and Bruce in the manor, living in a carefully constructed illusion that Bruce wasn't Batman and had never taken kids into his home.

Tim wonders when Damian found out Dick "died". How did he react? Did anyone even try to reach out to tell him gently, or did he find out on his own?

"Hey," Tim greets softly, lowering himself down to Damian's level in front of the fake grave. He sits on the balls of his feet and curls his arms over his knees before he turns to really get a good look at Damian.

The kid huffs in response, just staring ahead of him like the gravestone was the most interesting thing in the entire world. His cheeks and nose are red, a stark contrast to his normally dark complexion. His green eyes shine vividly too beneath his sopping wet black bangs. Tim wonders if he's been crying. However, he doesn't dare ask.

"Alfred's making hot chocolate," Tim continues, really feeling out of his league now. He doesn't know what to do. He's never had to confront a clearly vulnerable Damian before. "I don't think we should keep him waiting."

Damian blinks slowly, his gaze finally leaving the gravestone to flicker towards Tim.

And if eyes were the windows to the soul, then Damian's eyes have always been barred for as long Tim's known him. Barred and locked and shielded by blackout curtains. Now though? They're a stained glass window, shattered and hanging by twisted metal framework thanks to a rock that has been thrown through.

Tim can't recall ever seeing Damian like this before. It makes him ponder what really happened tonight. If Dick's injuries were simply because of an unfortunate Two-Face run in. Bruce called Tim over to help go over evidence, but now Tim gets the feeling the real reason he's been requested is because Damian's hurting in his own way too, and Bruce doesn't know how to deal with it.

Not that Tim knows how to deal with it either. The only person that really knows Damian inside and out is the very person who's just finished fighting for his life thanks to a brutal beat down via a psychopath armed with a wooden baseball bat. Again.

"Timothy…" Damian finally speaks, and Tim suddenly feels a chill enter his bones that's not from the wind. "What is Robin's purpose?"

Tim swallows, forcing surprise to stay off his face. Where has this come from?

"What do you mean?" Tim asks slowly.

"Tt." Damian turns back towards the gravestone, his usual sound of annoyance sounding half-hearted and incredibly tired. "Just answer."

And it must show how wrong this all feels because Tim doesn't even get the urge to roll his eyes at the demand. He lets out a breath that turns into a visible vapor the moment it leaves his mouth.

"I guess… it's different for everyone. There's no… job requirement when it comes to Robin. What it means can change on who wears the suit. As long as you wear the colors and fight alongside Batman, then you're Robin."

Damian frowns. "I was told Robin is supposed to be Batman's partner. Robin is supposed to watch Batman's back and protect him."

"Who told you that?" Tim asks before he could stop himself. Damian gives him an unimpressed look. "Oh. Lots of people, huh? Um… I guess protecting Batman is a big part of Robin. I know… that's the reason I became Robin. To save Bruce from his own darkness."

"Then… I am truly an awful Robin."

The words are so shocking that it takes Tim a second to realize a single drop of clear liquid that wasn't snow has dropped down Damian's cheek.

"Richard died while I was gone," Damian continues, water in his voice. "Even if his death was really a ploy to go undercover… he still got captured and tortured. I wasn't… there to protect him. And now, all I could do was stand uselessly while Dent…"

Damian brings a hand to his cheek to wipe the next tear that tries to fall. The sleeve of his jacket folds up around his wrists to reveal rope burns that definitely look like they sting.

Tim thinks he has a clearer picture now. Damian was definitely there, tied down and held back as Two-Face beat Nightwing to a bloody pulp.

Tim is so caught up trying to imagine what Damian is feeling, that he almost misses what's said next.

"If Robin is supposed to protect Batman, then… then it should have been me."

"No," Tim turns so he's facing Damian more head on. More tears drip down his cheeks and Damian looks done with trying to wipe them away. He's looking at the gravestone like he's the one who put it there. That the only reason it's there in the first place is because he wasn't there to stop it. "No, you're not allowed to say that. I take it back, Robin isn't meant to protect Batman-"

"You just said-"

"I was wrong, okay?"

Damian opens his mouth, then closes it.

Tim has to take a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. "Look… Damian… you're a kid. It's never a kids job to protect the guardian. It's their job to protect you."

"That's the issue, Timothy, he was protecting me." Damian wipes his eyes furiously, his cheeks growing redder but not because of the cold. "Two-Face wanted me, but Richard tricked Two-Face into letting him take my place. Richard died because of me, and stayed away because of me, and now he's- he's hurt because of me-"

"Stop it," Tim snaps. He can feel his heart beating so quickly. His stomach feels like it's in knots. Damian snaps his jaw shut with a tiny, barely choked off whimper that almost has Tim wanting to stand up, go to Gotham, and show Two-Face what a baseball bat looks like from the other end of the beating. "Just… stop. It's… none of this is your fault. And if Dick heard you saying things like this… that it should be you… he'd tell you the same stuff.

"You didn't do anything wrong Damian. Sometimes… Batman gets hurt. But you can't hold yourself responsible for that. Sometimes Dick gets hurt to protect you… us, and we can't blame ourselves for that. Dick did what he thought was right, and it's our job now to make sure he gets better. Okay?"

Damian's silent. Sniffs. From the cold or from tears, Tim doesn't ask.

He wakes in the chilling silence of the Wayne Graveyard until Damian finally jerks his head in a tiny, ridged nod. "I… understand."

"Good." Tim then rises to his feet and grabs Damian's bicep, dragging his little brother up with him. Damian stiffens at first, but eventually complies. Soon, Tim has his arm wrapped around Damian's shoulders. Damian sniffs again and wipes his eyes.

"You said… Alfred was making hot chocolate?" He asks, and Tim smiles.

"He sure is. You think we can convince him to put in marshmallows this time?"

Damian puts on a watered-down thoughtful face. Then nods. "I'm sure if we work together, we can also get cookies."

"Sounds like a plan, gremlin."

"Tt."

"Oh, don't give me that look. You like the nickname."

"I do not."

“Yes you do. Look! You're smiling!"

"You're seeing things, Timothy."

#damian wayne #tim drake #dick grayson #robin #red robin dc #drake #nightwing #fic #fanfiction #jin writes #whumptober2020 #no.19 #grief #survivors guilt #dc #dc comics #batman comics

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